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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624544">The Pride Pact</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls'>kaydeefalls</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Everyone Is Gay, Found Family, Friends to Lovers, Gay Bar, M/M, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, POV Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Romance, Slow Burn, brief mentions of Nicky/OMC and Joe/OMC, idiots to lovers, the inherent eroticism of riding the train home together</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 18:20:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>21,353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29624544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaydeefalls/pseuds/kaydeefalls</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>"So this is what my boss meant when she said we must have so much in common," Joe says.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yeah, probably," Nicky sighs. "It's...I just remember back when I was in school and there was only one other boy in my year who'd come out—"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"—and everyone assumed that of course you must be into each other," Joe agrees ruefully. "Because you were the two gay kids."</em>
</p><p>The one where Nicky and Joe make a pact not to sleep together and fuck up the friendship. So, you know, that works out well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>206</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>555</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Huge thanks to <strong>crediniaeth</strong> for the beta! This now has roughly 1k fewer unnecessary commas, all the remaining ones are my own damn fault.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The first time Nicky hears anything about Joe is at work, of course. He's going cross-eyed reviewing the fine print of a foreign contract—no one should have to translate German before noon, it's too harsh a language for early mornings—when Nile stops by his desk to drop off a cup of very black coffee.</p><p>"<em>Danke schön</em>," he mutters, still engrossed in the dense legalese, then blinks. "I mean—"</p><p>"You're welcome," she replies, cheeks dimpling. "Germany today, I take it?"</p><p>"Austria, but close enough." Nicky warms his hands on the coffee cup, debating whether it's worth burning his tongue or if he can bear to wait a little longer before taking a gulp. "What's the occasion? Not that I'm not grateful."</p><p>She shrugs, a little too casually. "So there's a new guy in Marketing. Joe. We were in line at Starbucks together this morning and got to chatting. He seems nice." She lifts an eyebrow. "Rainbow pin on his messenger bag."</p><p>"I suppose he's devastatingly handsome, too," Nicky says drily. "And told you all about how he's looking for a very boring Italian boyfriend."</p><p>Nile rolls her eyes. "Of course not. Although he is pretty hot. But no, I just thought maybe I'd invite him the next time we all head out to the Guard. Solidarity, you know. He's new to London."</p><p>The Old Guard is a pub run by a mutual friend of theirs, and one of the only queer bars in this city that Nicky can stand. "Sure, why not?"</p><p>"Cool."</p><p>His coffee is still too hot to drink safely, but he needs the caffeine too much to care. They chat idly for another few minutes before Nile returns to her own desk, and he promptly forgets the exchange.</p>
<hr/><p>The second time is at their quarterly all staff meeting a week or so later. Buried somewhere in the endless powerpoint deck is the usual slide about new hires. Joe al-Kaysani's name and staff photo appear along with a few others, but Nicky doesn't put two and two together until after the meeting when the head of Marketing waves him over. He detours to greet her—he helped her out with an ad campaign earlier this year, she's nice enough—and comes face to face with one of the most beautiful men he's ever seen.</p><p>That photo in the powerpoint did <em>not</em> do him justice.</p><p>"Nicky, I wanted you to meet Joe, he's our new graphic designer," the head of Marketing says. "Joe, Nicky's in International Affairs, he's one of our translators. I think you two have a lot in common!"</p><p>She leaves them with the sort of smile that straight people get when they think they're being <em>such</em> good allies.</p><p>"Uh," Joe says. "Nice to meet you?"</p><p>Nicky briefly covers his face with his hand, then meets Joe's bemused gaze with a rueful smile. "Sure. Hi. Sorry about that." He offers a hand, which Joe shakes politely enough and which does absolutely nothing to dispel the awkwardness. "She...means well, I think."</p><p>Joe still looks more confused than anything else, but smiles gamely. "So you're a translator, huh? I grew up speaking four languages, so maybe that's what she meant?"</p><p>"It's really not," Nicky sighs. "Though that's interesting. Was English one of the four, or did you pick it up later?"</p><p>"Definitely one of them, I don't think I have space in my head for any more at this point. English, Dutch, French, Arabic." At Nicky's raised eyebrow, he elaborates: "Tunisian, but we moved to Amsterdam when I was six. And you? Italian, I take it?"</p><p>"How ever could you tell?" Nicky asks drily. Joe's smile widens into something more genuine, a flash of mischief in his dark eyes. Oh, that's going to be trouble. That smile is dangerous. He should be very careful how he uses it. Nicky's brain stutters and he briefly loses command of the English language, which is very worrisome considering that knowing words is literally his job.</p><p>"Lucky guess," Joe says with a wink, which does not in any way help matters. "Oh, hey, I think I met one of your colleagues already. Nile?"</p><p>"Ah, yes, she mentioned." He needs to stop staring at Joe's face before it gets weird, so he glances down at his wristwatch instead, and curses under his breath. "I'm sorry, I need to get back to my desk, I have a call in five minutes. It was nice meeting you."</p><p>"Sure," Joe says. "I guess I'll see you around."</p><p>And that's that.</p>
<hr/><p>The next weekend is Pride, which means of course Nicky has to go out to the Guard. Even if it's the one weekend each year when all he really wants is to lock himself in his flat alone with a book or something. It's not that he doesn't appreciate the spirit of the thing; he just doesn't actually enjoy being in clubs so crowded that you can't breathe without choking on someone else's body glitter. Not to mention all the straight tourists gawking.</p><p>But Nile insists, so out they go. She even oversees his wardrobe for the evening, which means he's wearing jeans that are practically painted on and a shirt he's pretty sure shrank in the wash, plus eyeliner—the bare minimum he was able to negotiate her down to. Nile, in contrast, has all the colors of the rainbow in her eyeshadow, but <em>she</em> makes it look good, so that's all right. On him, he's pretty sure it would just look like clown makeup.</p><p>"I suppose that will do," she says, giving him one last critical onceover. "I swear to God, we <em>will</em> get you laid tonight."</p><p>Nicky groans. "I don't—"</p><p>"You absolutely do," she retorts. "It's been <em>ages</em>, Nicky. Anyway, it's Pride! Ill-advised hookups are obligatory."</p><p>The Old Guard is sufficiently off the beaten path that it's only twice as busy as usual, not packed to the gills like the other gay bars they passed en route. Lykon's behind the bar tonight, so their usual drinks are waiting for them by the time Nile and Nicky manage to shove their way up to it. "You are a prince among men," Nicky informs him, and Lykon winks and moves on down to the next customer.</p><p>The ground floor of the pub has been cleared for a makeshift dance floor, which is positively hopping tonight; upstairs has a cozier atmosphere. That's where they find Andy and Quỳnh, up by the balcony where Andy can keep an eye on the crowd. </p><p>"No Booker yet?" Nile asks, claiming the last free stool. Nicky just leans against the balcony railing and sips his drink.</p><p>"He'll probably give it a miss tonight," Andy says. "Not his favorite scene."</p><p>Nicky arches an eyebrow at Nile. "Oh, so <em>Booker's</em> allowed to skip out on Pride—"</p><p>"Booker is a sad disaster bi who still freaks out a little when guys hit on him, even if he does think they're hot," Nile says sternly. "You are a proud gay man. It's <em>different</em>."</p><p>"Whatever you say."</p><p>Nicky's about halfway through his drink when Nile catches sight of something downstairs and leans out over the balcony, waving frantically. "Joe!" she yells, cupping her hands around her mouth. "Hey, Joe!"</p><p>Nicky promptly swallows vodka down the wrong pipe and chokes for a minute, but is mostly done coughing through it by the time Joe manages to make his way up to them. The balcony is poorly lit enough that Joe probably can't tell how red his face currently is. Joe, of course, looks unfairly amazing in a linen shirt unbuttoned halfway down his chest, his curls artfully tousled.</p><p>"This is Quỳnh," Nile is saying, "she works with me in International, and her wife Andy, who owns this place. And Nicky—"</p><p>Joe's smile lights up the dim space, teeth flashing against his dark beard. "We've met."</p><p>His teeth are crooked, Nicky notes, a little dazed from the full force of that grin. It should make him feel better to have found the one flaw in this man's appearance, but instead it just makes him gorgeously <em>human</em>, and touchable. That's worse, somehow. That's terrifying.</p><p>"Ah, yes," Nicky says belatedly. "Hi, Joe." Nile glances between them, and Nicky absolutely refuses to meet her eyes. He gulps down the remainder of his drink instead. "I'm going to get another round, anyone else?"</p><p>They all make their requests. Nile smiles sweetly and adds, "That's a lot to carry—Joe, can you go with him?"</p><p>"Sure thing," Joe says, and of course Nicky can't turn him down. He does glare at Nile behind Joe’s back. She just grins and winks at him.</p><p>This time Lykon's too busy to have seen him coming, so they have to wait their turn like everyone else. Pressed shoulder to shoulder by the crowd, Joe gives him a little nudge. "So <em>this</em> is what my boss meant," he remarks, his mouth very close to Nicky's ear in order to be heard over the music. "When she said we must have so much in common."</p><p>"Yeah, probably," Nicky sighs. "It's...I just remember back when I was in school and there was only one other boy in my year who'd come out—"</p><p>"—and everyone assumed that of <em>course</em> you must be into each other," Joe agrees ruefully. "Because you were the two gay kids."</p><p>Nicky snorts. "You got it. Even if you had literally nothing else in common, or couldn't stand each other." He hadn't been out himself as a teenager—he'd been so deep in the closet he nearly found Narnia—but he'd certainly seen it happen to the boys who'd been more obvious about it. "I'm sorry she, ah, foisted me upon you like that."</p><p>"Eh, no worries. I can stand you just fine so far."</p><p>"You're too kind."</p><p>Joe shoots him another quick grin, which Nicky can't help but return.</p><p>Once they've successfully wrangled the drinks back upstairs, Joe turns his attention to charming all of Nicky's friends, which is honestly a relief. Nicky's not sure he could have handled the full force of the man's focus for much longer. He relaxes into just watching and listening for a while, enjoying the easy flow of conversation around him. Nile and Quỳnh devolve into complaining about one of the clients they both had to work with that week, and Andy rolls her eyes at the inevitable shop talk.</p><p>"If it helps," Joe tells her, "I have no idea what they're talking about either."</p><p>"Enjoy it while it lasts," Nicky advises. "You may not be in our department, but it's not <em>that</em> big of an agency."</p><p>Joe leans back against the balcony, eyes crinkling at the edges in amusement. "Is everyone in International, you know…"</p><p>Andy grins, sharklike, eyes glittering. "Ragingly queer? Pretty much, yeah, based on how many of them wind up in my bar. There's a joke about cunning linguists in there somewhere."</p><p>"There is, and Quỳnh makes it regularly," Nicky says drily. Joe tilts his head back with laughter, and Nicky quickly finishes his drink. It's too damn warm in here; too crowded, even upstairs, and heat rises. Between that and the alcohol, that's the <em>only</em> reason his face feels flushed.</p><p>Booker actually makes an appearance at that point, looking vaguely haunted from the mortifying ordeal of pushing his way through the crowd of horny gays. The women rib him mercilessly for the next few minutes until Nile decides it's time for them all to hit the dance floor.</p><p>"Don't worry, Booker," Nicky tells him with a grin. "I will protect your virtue."</p><p>He means it, too. Unlike Nile, who has a strict "hoes before bros" policy when it comes to Pride weekend, Nicky has no particular interest in finding someone to take home tonight. He dances with Booker for a while, then he and Nile grab hands and start jumping around like idiots when "It's Raining Men" inevitably comes around on the playlist.</p><p>She manages to wrangle the others into their manic little circle, and Nicky finds himself abruptly face to face with Joe. "It's obligatory," he explains, breathless, and Joe laughs with him and joins in.</p><p>He somehow manages to make even this look good. Because of course he does.</p><p>The song changes, and their dynamics shift in the nature of such things. Andy and Quỳnh split off to grind together while Nile turns her sights on a girl with bright blue hair. Booker and Joe wend their way back toward the bar. Nicky gets pulled into dancing with a stranger, and it's all right for a few minutes until the guy starts getting a bit too handsy, so he extricates himself and retreats back up to the balcony. He's starting to get a headache from the noise. At least it's less intense up here.</p><p>A glass appears in his hand as if by magic, and he turns to see Joe beside him. "Hey," Joe says, with that crooked little smile. "It's just water. Figured we could all use the hydration at this point."</p><p>"Thanks, I appreciate that." Nicky downs the water in a few long swallows, and it does clear his head a bit. "What happened to Booker?"</p><p>"He was chatting with the bartender, seemed happy enough where he was. Another friend of yours?"</p><p>"Lykon? Yeah, he's a sweetheart." Nicky leans back against the balcony, giving Joe a rueful smile. "Sorry, this is probably not the best introduction to the Guard. It's normally not quite so busy, but, you know. Pride."</p><p>Joe joins him at the railing. Their elbows bump companionably. "It's not so bad. I don't really know anyone here in London yet outside of work, so this has been nice. I'm glad Nile invited me."</p><p>"Me, too. Though, do we count? I mean, apart from Andy and Booker, we <em>are</em> still just coworkers."</p><p>"We're physically outside of work right now, it absolutely counts," Joe retorts, grinning. "And you definitely don't dress like <em>this</em> in the office."</p><p>Nicky groans, covering his face with his hands. "That is entirely Nile's fault, so don't get used to it. I feel like I'm wearing a costume. This whole…" He gestures vaguely out to the dance floor below them. "I don't know, club scene, hookup culture, whatever you call it. It's not really my thing. I'm just here to hang out with my friends."</p><p>Joe's expression is unreadable when Nicky glances sidelong over at him. "I can respect that," Joe says, quietly enough that it's hard to make the words out over the music. "They seem like good people. I'm enjoying getting to know you—getting to know them all."</p><p>"You're welcome to join us again anytime," Nicky tells him. "I know you and I keep getting kind of...pushed together, but seriously."</p><p>"Right, there is that." Joe's mouth twists wryly. "The only two gay guys. Or, wait, Booker…?"</p><p>"He mostly dates women, but he's been known to make exceptions." At Joe's raised eyebrow, Nicky laughs and shakes his head. "No, I am definitely not one of them. Why, are you interested?"</p><p>Joe blinks rapidly. "Am I—oh, you mean interested in Booker? Uh, not particularly."</p><p><em>Good</em>, Nicky very much does not say aloud.</p><p>"Listen," Joe goes on, looking down at the empty water glass in his hands. Nicky can't help but follow his gaze. He has very nice hands, with a couple of intricate silver rings adorning his long, tapered fingers. "Like I said, I'm new here. I'm not looking for...I mean, I really could use a few <em>friends</em>, if I'm being honest." He meets Nicky's eyes, then.</p><p><em>Oh.</em> Nicky's stomach sinks a little, and he does his best to cover it. "Of course, I understand that."</p><p>"And I really like you all, so I don't want to, like, mess that up by…"</p><p>"Joe, it's really okay." Nicky smiles, and it almost feels genuine. It <em>is</em> genuine. He enjoys Joe's company, and Joe wants to be friends, there's absolutely nothing bad about any of this. "I promise not to sleep with you and ruin our friendship." He hesitates, then extends his hand, as though to formalize the agreement.</p><p>Joe cracks his own smile at that, and shakes his hand firmly. "And I promise that I'm not just trying to get in your pants like, oh, literally half the guys down on that dance floor."</p><p>"They were not!" Nicky protests, feeling his face get hot. Joe's grin widens. He gives Nicky's hand one last quick squeeze before releasing him.</p><p>"They absolutely were. Have you seen yourself tonight?"</p><p>Nicky shoves at his shoulder, snorting, and tells himself it's fine. Honestly, as rejections go, this was one of the nicer ones. And it's no big deal. He only met Joe a few days ago; he'll get over this little crush. It hardly even counts as such.</p><p>They head back downstairs to dance after that, and if Nicky does wind up picking up a random attractive stranger and going home with him that night, well, what of it? Nile was right; he just needs to get laid more often.</p>
<hr/><p>On Monday Nile drags him out to lunch, which is not terribly unusual but ominous nonetheless. "All right, spill. Lykon said you definitely didn't leave the Guard alone on Saturday. So you had fun, then?"</p><p>"Ah, it was all right. A nice change of pace, I suppose. And you?"</p><p>"You know I did. So…" Nile raises an expectant eyebrow, and Nicky just waits her out. "Oh, come on. It was Joe, right?"</p><p>"No, it was not," Nicky says primly. "Not that it's any of your business."</p><p>She pauses and narrows her eyes at him over their bowls of ramen. "I thought you two were hitting it off."</p><p>"We did! He said he enjoyed getting to know us. I think he'll fit in well at the Guard. We should invite him out again sometime."</p><p>"You know that's not what I meant."</p><p>Nicky rolls his eyes. "I know this may come as a shock, but gay men are capable of being friends without having sex."</p><p>She flicks a drop of soup at him like a child. "Obviously. Look, I'm sorry, I'm not trying to pressure you or anything. You two just seemed pretty into each other. That's all."</p><p>"Well, we're not. Not like <em>that</em>." Nicky toys with his chopsticks, staring down into his bowl as though it holds an escape from this particular conversation. "He's looking to make some friends here in London, that's all. I remember how that felt, when I'd just moved here."</p><p>"Yeah, me too." Nile kicks him gently under the table, and smiles when he meets her eyes. "And I found you and Quỳnh, so that worked out pretty well for us both, I think." He nods, matching her smile. "Cool. So next time we go out to lunch, okay if I ask Joe to come with?"</p><p>"Of course," he says, and means it. "The more the merrier."</p>
<hr/><p>Summer in London is always a bit of a crapshoot; it's either warm and gorgeous or chilly and raining. Nicky has long since learned the trick of always keeping an umbrella handy, but he deeply resents the necessity of it. So when he steps out of the office building one evening to a torrential downpour, he has to brace himself under the awning for a minute before he can muster the will to run for the nearest Tube station, several long blocks away. The umbrella won't keep his shoes from filling with water, and he hates wet socks.</p><p>"Fuck," someone standing nearby says with feeling. It's Joe, staring forlornly out at the rain without so much as a jacket for cover. He glances over and does a low-key double-take before breaking into a wry grin. "Nicky! Hi. So, weather, huh?"</p><p>"No kidding," Nicky says, an answering smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. "Welcome to England. You should probably get used to this."</p><p>"I swear it was sunny this morning."</p><p>"Yes, but that was this morning." Nicky looks him over with no small amount of sympathy. "Where are you headed?"</p><p>"Just the Tube, but, ah...shit." Joe grimaces. "I guess I could call a cab home, but I should really just suck it up and make a run for it."</p><p>"Liverpool Street?" At Joe's nod, Nicky proffers his umbrella. "We could share, if you like. I think it's big enough to cover both of us."</p><p>"I would be very happy to take you up on that, if you really don't mind."</p><p>The umbrella isn't <em>quite</em> large enough to cover two grown men, but it's better than nothing. After some awkward shuffling, Joe huffs out a laugh and takes Nicky's arm, pulling them closer together as they walk, and that improves matters. They're more or less of a height, which also helps.</p><p>"Thanks," Joe says. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this."</p><p>"It's no trouble." Nicky elbows him gently. "What are friends for, right?"</p><p>Joe bumps his shoulder against Nicky's and smiles. "Careful, I might take advantage. Now I just need to convince you to walk me home at the other end."</p><p>"You can buy an overpriced umbrella from a street vendor in the station like everyone else," Nicky retorts lightly, trying not to think about the way his heart stuttered a little at Joe's words.</p><p>"Ah, of course, the kind that flips inside out at the first gust of wind?"</p><p>"The very same. Penance for forgetting that you live in London now."</p><p>Joe laughs, and Nicky can practically feel it vibrate along his side where they're pressed together. He tugs Joe just the slightest bit closer and pretends it's because of the rain.</p><p>They keep up a light patter of conversation for the rest of their commute. As it turns out, they both live along the same line, only one station apart from each other, which is frankly astonishing given the size of the city.</p><p>"No, it makes sense, though," Joe points out. "It's an artsy neighborhood full of young-ish professionals that's relatively affordable—for London, anyway—so of course we'd both gravitate to that general area. I work some evenings at a gallery near the station, you should stop by if you're free. Well, assuming you like very eclectic art collections."</p><p>"Are you an artist, then?" Nicky asks, and then mentally smacks himself. "Of course, you're a graphic designer. Why should this surprise me?"</p><p>"Ah, that's just to pay the bills." Joe shifts his grip on the handrail as the train rattles along, giving Nicky a quick grin. "I work mostly in pencil and charcoals when it's my own stuff. Oil paints as well. Digital art is fun, but it's not my primary interest."</p><p>"I'd love to see your work sometime."</p><p>Joe ducks his head, oddly shy. "Sure, we'll see."</p><p>Nicky disembarks first. He's still smiling all the way home, despite the rain.</p>
<hr/><p>Nicky and Nile usually head to the Guard after work on Fridays to celebrate getting through another work week. Quỳnh is there more regularly, of course; she's technically a co-owner with Andy and picks up the occasional bar shift if they're short-staffed. Booker, who handles the pub's bookkeeping as one of his many side-hustles, also hangs out there most weeknights.</p><p>After Pride, Joe winds up tagging along with them more often than not, though his shifts at the gallery are irregular and sometimes prevent him from making an appearance. "We're definitely keeping you," Booker informs him sometime later that summer. "It's nice to have another bloke along. Keeps me and Nicky from always being outnumbered."</p><p>"Yes, because that's the problem with queer spaces, too many <em>women</em>," Nile says, deadpan. </p><p>Joe laughs. "I do like that the Guard has more gender parity than most. Why <em>are</em> there so many more gay bars than lesbian, though? I'd never thought about it before, but now that you mention it..."</p><p>"Because we all U-Haul on the first date and then snuggle up at home together," Quỳnh says from behind the bar, grinning. Andy leans over to give her a smacking kiss on the cheek.</p><p>Nile and Booker start up a game of darts after that, which gets competitive pretty quickly. They cajole Joe into joining. He turns out to have better aim than either of them, or possibly he's just had less to drink tonight. Nicky joins in briefly, just messing around, but Booker gets that glint in his eye and he smiles to himself. After the next round, which Joe wins handily, Booker asks if he'd like to make it interesting.</p><p>"What, you wanna bet?" Joe asks, grinning. "Sure, I can take you."</p><p>Booker glances at Nicky, who gives him a subtle nod. "No, you've already proven that. How about you against Nicky, hmm? Three throws, closest to bullseye wins."</p><p>Joe gives Nicky an assessing look, likely considering his odds, then nods. "Sure, why not? Thirty quid?"</p><p>"Sure," Nicky agrees.</p><p>Joe's first throw is pretty good, only a couple of inches off center. Nicky follows, and his is just a hair closer, enough for Nile to whoop and Joe to narrow his eyes a little. Joe's second is better, just outside the green, and Nicky starts to aim his own when Booker interrupts. "Hey, Nicky, you gonna throw left-handed all night?"</p><p>Nicky grins and switches hands. "Well, now that you mention it."</p><p>"Ah, fuck," Joe groans, catching on.</p><p>It's not even a contest. Nicky's second and third darts cuddle together in the middle of the red bullseye, while Nile and Booker laugh their asses off and Joe goes for his wallet. "You're a damn hustler is what you are," he informs Nicky, but he's laughing himself by then.</p><p>"It's a trick that only works once," Nicky says, pocketing the cash. "No hard feelings?"</p><p>Joe claps him on the back. "Of course not, that was well played. How'd you get so good at this?"</p><p>"I just have a decent eye. You want to see good, you should get Quỳnh up here. She's <em>unreal</em>."</p><p>"We don't let her or Nicky play with us anymore," Nile agrees. "Unless we're all on a team together, of course."</p><p>They head back to the bar so that Nicky can treat them all to a round with his winnings, even Joe. "It's only fair," he points out. "It's your money, after all."</p><p>"So really, it's just <em>you</em> buying us a round," Booker agrees, elbowing Joe companionably. "Thanks for playing along."</p><p>"How did you fall in with this lot, anyway?" Joe asks him.</p><p>Booker shrugs. "Me and Andy go way back."</p><p>"That's all you'll ever get," Nicky adds. "I've been friends with them three years and have still never heard that story. Nile has many theories."</p><p>That's Nile's cue to launch into a series of increasingly ridiculous speculations as to how Andy and Booker first met, running the gauntlet from being primary school sweethearts to overthrowing a drug cartel together. Quỳnh contributes spurious embellishments between serving other customers. Andy manages to keep a straight face throughout, with the occasional serious nod as though in confirmation of the most outlandish possibilities. Nicky just sips his drink slowly, enjoying the way Joe's eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the line of his throat as he tilts his head back to laugh. </p><p>The warmth in his gaze when he exchanges amused looks with Nicky over Nile's head.</p><p>They catch the last Tube home together and sit peacefully side by side in the nearly empty train car, shoulders bumping. Nicky's starting to drift off by the time they get to his stop, and Joe nudges him awake, teasing him gently for it and waving a cheeky goodbye through the window as the train pulls away from the station.</p>
<hr/><p>One Sunday in September dawns to the sort of perfect weather you <em>never</em> get in London. After sipping coffee at his window for a while, Nicky decides to go for a walk.</p><p>He's always been a morning person, which can feel a little lonely on the weekends. Sunday mornings especially. He left the Church for many good reasons, but he does miss that sense of community sometimes.</p><p>It's well past ten at this point, which seems reasonable enough for company. He considers texting Nile, but she lives all the way across the city and he's not quite willing to spend an hour on the Tube today. Andy and Quỳnh are also out; Andy treats morning as a theoretical concept, and likely won't be awake for several hours. Booker might be up for it, but he would also require another Tube ride. And Nicky's never actually seen Lykon outside of the Guard before; it would probably be weird to ring him now after three years of never hanging out one-on-one.</p><p>Then it occurs to him that he does in fact have a friend in the neighborhood now.</p><p>Before he can overthink it, he pulls up Joe's contact on his phone and shoots off a quick text: <em>Good morning! It's too nice out to sit in my flat all day. I was thinking of getting brunch or something. Would you be interested in joining me?</em></p><p>It only takes a minute for Joe to respond.</p><p>
  <em>brunch before noon is homophobic :(</em>
</p><p>Nicky snorts out a laugh. Before he can come up with a response, Joe goes on: <em>Seriously though I'd love to but I'm working at the gallery from 11-3. Want to meet up for coffee after if you're still out and about?</em></p><p>
  <em>Sounds good!</em>
</p><p>The morning doesn't seem so empty now that he has plans lined up for later. He grabs breakfast at the nearest cafe and heads over to a little park to read for a few hours. Joe texts him the address of the gallery, which turns out to be only about a fifteen-minute walk from Nicky's flat.</p><p>Nicky gets there a little early and finds Joe sitting behind the counter with a book. He looks up when the bell over the door jingles, and a smile like a sunrise breaks out across his face. "Nicky, hey! I need to close out and wait for Valerie to show up for her shift. Okay waiting for a few minutes?"</p><p>"No worries, take your time. I've never been in here before, I'd like to look around."</p><p>Joe waves a hand. "Go right ahead, I'll find you."</p><p>It's not a very large gallery, and as Joe had once mentioned, rather eclectic in both the media and styles on display. There are paintings and sculptures and pottery of all shapes and sizes and colors, plus some intricately decorated furniture and several glass cases of jewelry. Nicky wanders at random, stopping at anything that catches his eye. There are some cute robot-like sculptures constructed out of found objects, which he finds charming; then a series of very pretty photographs of the countryside, though it looks a bit generic to his admittedly unpracticed eye.</p><p>One painting at the back of the gallery catches his eye. From a distance he thinks it's similar to the photography: rolling hills of the English countryside. But the colors are curiously muted, accented with sparks of silver moonlight, and as he draws closer, the hills look more like ocean waves. No matter how long he studies it, he's not quite sure which it's meant to be. Perhaps that's the point: the whole effect is luminous, dreamlike. Art isn't really his thing, apart from a general aesthetic appreciation; he prefers language, literature or history or poetry. But he thinks he could stand here just looking at this painting for quite a long time.</p><p>"You like that one?"</p><p>Nicky starts a little at Joe's voice so close to his ear. When he turns, he can't quite read the expression on Joe's face. He looks oddly hesitant.</p><p>"I do," Nicky says. "It's very beautiful. There's such motion in it, but it's strangely...calming, maybe?" He ducks his head. "Sorry, I know many words in a number of languages, yet I've never been able to speak intelligently about art. But yes, I like it very much."</p><p>Joe grins. "No, no, you're doing fine. Thank you, that's very flattering."</p><p>Nicky blinks at him. "Wait, this is yours?" He looks down at the little printed card by the bottom corner of the painting. The artist's name is apparently Yusuf al-Kaysani. He'd never thought to wonder what 'Joe' was short for, and feels a little foolish. "I genuinely had not noticed that."</p><p>"Then I'm doubly flattered." Joe's smile creases the corners of his eyes. "This is one of my favorites as well."</p><p>"Joe, this is really wonderful," Nicky says softly. "I did not know your own work was on display here or I would have stopped by sooner."</p><p>Joe shrugs, rubbing the back of his neck. "The gallery is a co-operative, all local artists. We all take turns working behind the counter every week."</p><p>"Do you have any more paintings here? I'd love to see them."</p><p>They end up spending half an hour more at the gallery while Joe points out his other pieces to Nicky and talks about a few of the other artists as well. His are a mix of paintings and sketches—mostly portraits, beautifully rendered, and one other painting in a similar vein to the first, though this one is a cityscape. It's all strange angles and bright streaks of color, with that same glint of moonlight casting silver shadows. Nicky finds himself equally entranced.</p><p>"I would like to live there, I think," he murmurs, almost reaching out to trace the outline before catching himself.</p><p>Joe glances at him sidelong. "Me, too."</p>
<hr/><p>Nicky tries to be a positive person, or at least a relatively calm one, but some weeks are just utter shit from start to finish. It's been pissing down rain for days, there's a leak in his living room ceiling that his asshole landlord hasn't fixed yet—normally he loves having a top floor flat for the light, but not so much at the moment—and he's been dealing with corporate dickheads all week at work, some Milanese company his NGO is trying to partner with. You'd think their being Italian would make his job easier, but they're such colossal pricks that he's tempted to speak exclusively in the Genoese dialect instead, just to see their heads explode. </p><p>Or maybe ecclesiastical Latin.</p><p>"What the fuck does some fashion retailer have to do with our work, anyway?" he grumbles to Nile over his third vodka tonic. It's barely gone eight o'clock, he doesn't normally go through drinks this quickly, but fuck it, he wants to step outside of his brain for a while. Not that it's working so far. "We're a goddamn international aid charity, not a designer brand!"</p><p>"Halo effect," Nile sighs. "They think it'll make them look good to drop a few million for the cause."</p><p>"Then they should just give us the money and leave us the fuck alone to spend it where it's actually <em>needed</em>, not this bullshit circus act—"</p><p>"Remind me never to set you loose on Development," Quỳnh remarks, pulling up a chair. It's busier than usual tonight, so they're up in their preferred spot by the balcony instead of just at the bar. Lykon needs to actually be able to serve other customers, for some reason. "Hey, speaking of work—Nicky, do you know where Joe wandered off to? I've been meaning to ask him something about the new ad campaign."</p><p>Nicky hunches his shoulders forward. This is also part of why his week has been the <em>worst</em>. "I am not his keeper, how should I know?"</p><p>Nile lets out an exasperated noise. "He's been down at the bar for the past forty-five minutes," she tells Quỳnh. "With a new friend, apparently."</p><p>Quỳnh is not subtle about leaning over the balcony to have a look. Nicky stares into his drink instead. He's already done that, he does not need to continue seeing it. "Oh, wow, his new friend is very pretty."</p><p>"Yup," Nile says, popping the 'p' in a deliberately annoying fashion. "He's been making sure that Joe notices, too."</p><p>Quỳnh elbows Nicky sharply in the side. "You really gonna let some twink move in on your man like that?"</p><p>"He's not my—" Nicky huffs out a breath, swatting her away. "We're just friends, Quỳnh, you know that. He can do what he likes."</p><p>"And <em>who</em> he likes," Nile adds under her breath. Nicky glares at her.</p><p>Quỳnh folds her arms across her chest, eyes narrowing. "Look, I get that you two aren't, like, official or whatever, but you can't seriously be telling me you aren't shagging yet."</p><p>"They are not," Nile says, singsong. "Though God only knows why."</p><p>The only excuse Nicky will be able to give, later, is that he must be a lot closer to drunk than he thinks he is. "Because we made a fucking pact not to."</p><p>The women look at him, then at each other, then back at him. "Excuse me, what white nonsense is this?" Nile finally asks.</p><p>Nicky sighs, swirling the melting ice around in his otherwise empty glass. "On Pride, that first time he came out with us. I was, I don't know, I must have been coming on too strong or something. He was probably just trying to let me down gently. We promised not to sleep together and fuck up the friendship. Shook on it and everything." He spreads his hands wide on the table, palms up. "So."</p><p>"That is the stupidest thing I have ever heard, and I deal with drunk people for a living," Quỳnh informs him.</p><p>"No, you deal with high-profile international partners for a living, your <em>wife</em> deals with drunk people."</p><p>Quỳnh rolls her eyes. "You really think there's a difference?"</p><p>"He was new to London, and we were the first friends he was making," Nicky says, more softly, directing it mostly to the table. "He was right. If we'd hooked up that night—which he was not interested in, by the way—then he'd just have been a one-night stand and we would never have seen him again. I mean, except at work, which would have been very awkward as well. It's much better this way." He forces himself to meet Nile's eyes across the table. "I would not trade Joe's friendship for anything. I mean it."</p><p>Nile shakes her head, but she also covers his hand with her own. He squeezes it gratefully.</p><p>"All right," Quỳnh finally says. "I'm going to get you a refill. On the house. Something tells me you need it."</p><p>He doesn't get <em>too</em> drunk that night, but he's definitely not sober enough to want to take the Tube home on his own, so he calls a cab instead. Joe's long gone by then, along with the handsome man he met at the bar, though he did send them all a group text earlier to let them know he was heading out.</p><p>Nicky's phone buzzes just before he falls asleep, and he sits up so fast it makes him feel a little nauseous. It's nearly one in the morning. There's a text from Joe.</p><p>
  <em>u make it home ok? sorry to ditch my train buddy</em>
</p><p>It takes him longer than he would care to admit to tap out a response, desperately trying to avoid typos: <em>Yes, home now. You?</em></p><p>
  <em>oh i'm good ;)</em>
</p><p>Nicky stares at the stupid winky emoji for a while, hating pretty much everything about it, before giving up on a response and rolling over to sleep instead. It takes him a while to finally drift off.</p><p>In retrospect, though, he decides Joe's hookup was actually a good thing. They never see the guy again, and the next week Joe is right back at the Guard with the rest of them, laughing off the razzing they give him about it. He's just as friendly with Nicky as he was before, pulling faces behind Andy's back and knocking their knees together under the table, and chatting a mile a minute on their Tube ride home. So Nicky takes this as proof that their Pride pact was to a purpose after all: this way he gets Joe's friendship, his smiles, and his fond attention in a way that one night stand never even knew he was missing.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Listen. For anyone who thinks the premise of this fic was too ridiculous, you need to understand that the Pride pact is based on an actual agreement I once made with a friend because we were the only two queer woman in a social group otherwise dominated by gay men, and we needed them to stop trying to smush us together. Anyway we're married now.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It's yet another rainy evening in November, and Andy is grumpy and taking it out on everyone else. "Quỳnh's been in Geneva all week for work," Nicky explains to Joe, sotto voce, while Andy clatters around behind the bar. "Andy gets...antsy when she's gone for more than a couple of days. She'll be back Sunday, though, God willing."</p>
<p>"<em>Inshallah</em>," Joe agrees, wincing as Andy snipes at Booker about who knows what. "Is Lykon off tonight, too?"</p>
<p>"No, he's just very, very late," Andy grumbles, shoving Joe's drink in his general direction. "Because that's just what I needed right now, especially on Celeste's night off." Celeste is her assistant manager, a level-headed young woman who has an admirable talent for getting drunks to reconsider all their life choices. Nicky likes Celeste.</p>
<p>The phone behind the bar rings, and Andy throws up her hands with a stream of curses before going to answer it.</p>
<p>Nile shifts awkwardly on her stool. "You know, I used to tend bar in college, I could help—"</p>
<p>"It's a slow night so far," Booker sighs. "So hopefully that won't be necessary."</p>
<p>But when Andy gets off the phone, she's white-faced. "I need to go. Fuck. Book, I don't know—"</p>
<p>"What is it, what happened?" Booker asks. "I can run the bar, don't worry about it. Is it Quỳnh…?"</p>
<p>Nicky's heart stops at the implication. He reaches out to grab at Nile's hand, unthinking.</p>
<p>"Not Quỳnh," Andy says. Before Nicky has a chance to breathe out again, she goes on: "It's Lykon, I'm his emergency contact. There's been an accident. I need to get to the hospital—"</p>
<p>Joe is up and moving at once. "I'll go call you a taxi." At Andy's nod, he grabs his jacket and heads out into the night, mobile in hand.</p>
<p>For possibly the first time in her life, Andy hesitates, wavering. "I need to…"</p>
<p>"Come on, let's get your things from your office," Nicky tells her, taking her arm gently. "I will go with you. Booker can run the Guard tonight, he's done it before."</p>
<p>She squeezes her eyes shut for a moment, and when she opens them, a little of the old Andy is back. "Yeah. Thanks."</p>
<p>They fetch her jacket and purse from the office, Andy moving forward mechanically throughout. When they emerge again, Nile has joined Booker behind the bar, already mixing drinks for patrons. She gives Nicky a brisk nod and waves them on. "We got this, go."</p>
<p>Outside, the rain has lightened into more of a heavy mist. Joe has a cab waiting at the curb for them, and without anyone discussing it he follows Nicky and Andy into the back seat. Andy gives the driver the name of the hospital, then doesn't say another word for the rest of the ride. Nicky wraps his arm around her shoulders. She leans into him, just a fraction, and he hopes it's better than nothing. Joe is quiet and calm at his other side. When they get to the hospital, Joe handles the fare while Andy runs in, Nicky just behind her.</p>
<p>Inside, she's all business, demanding information and not taking no for an answer until they find someone who knows about Lykon. It was an accident; in the darkness and the rain a driver had made a turn without looking while Lykon was crossing the road. Probably rushing, already late for his shift at the Guard. Just a stupid accident. He's in surgery now.</p>
<p>They're shown to a waiting area with hard plastic chairs and horrible fluorescent lighting, and nothing much happens for a long time. "Do you want to call Quỳnh?" Nicky asks quietly. "Or would you like me to?"</p>
<p>Andy shakes her head stiffly. "No, I...no. Not yet. Not until we know more. It'll just worry her, and she'll stress out about trying to get her flights changed, and...no."</p>
<p>"She would want to be here for Lykon, and for you."</p>
<p>"Not until we know more," Andy says again, and Nicky lets it go.</p>
<p>After a time, Joe asks if they'd like him to find coffee. Andy shrugs, twisting her hands in her lap, but Nicky gives him a nod, trying to convey his gratitude just with his eyes. Some of it must come through, because a flicker of a smile tugs at Joe's mouth for a moment. When he returns with three steaming cups, Nicky nudges Andy gently until she accepts one. She doesn't really acknowledge it otherwise, but at least it will keep her hands warm.</p>
<p>"Thank you," Nicky tells Joe softly, trying to smile. It doesn't quite take. The hospital coffee is unsurprisingly terrible, but it helps. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Andy take an absent sip of hers, grimace, then sip it again.</p>
<p>After what must be hours, a doctor comes to find them and asks if they're Lykon's family. "I'm his legal next of kin," Andy says firmly, standing. "How is he?"</p>
<p>The surgery on his leg went well, the doctor thinks; no internal injuries from what he could see. Lykon is sleeping now, but they can allow one visitor in to see him. There's no question that Andy will go. She drops the empty cup in a bin and follows the doctor out of the waiting room.</p>
<p>Nicky does his best to find a more comfortable position in the hard chair, settling in for a long night, then looks over at Joe, who is doing much the same in the seat beside him. "You don't have to stay. Thank you so much for everything you've done for us tonight. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it, but it will just be more hours of sitting now. You should go home."</p>
<p>Joe looks at him, eyebrows raised. "Are you staying?"</p>
<p>"Of course," Nicky says simply. "Someone needs to be here for Andy."</p>
<p>"That's what I thought. Then I'm staying, too." Joe reaches out to rub Nicky's back, his hand warm and soothing between his shoulder blades. When he pulls away, he doesn't go far, letting his arm drape lightly across the back of Nicky's chair. "Someone should be here for you, too."</p>
<p>Nicky nods and doesn't protest further. It's strangely comforting just having him here; a calm, reassuring presence.</p>
<p>"How did Andy wind up as Lykon's next of kin?" Joe asks, tone low and gentle.</p>
<p>"She took him in when he was a teenager," Nicky says. "His parents kicked him out. For, you know…"</p>
<p>"Being gay?"</p>
<p>"Yeah. I don't know the full story, it was long before I came to London and he doesn't like talking about it. Andy and Quỳnh gave him a home for a time until he could get his feet back under him, and gave him the job at the Guard. He's working his way through a social work degree now, did you know?"</p>
<p>Joe shakes his head, looking pensive. "No, I didn't. I never really spoke to him much beyond, you know, small talk. I didn't want to be bothering him while he was working."</p>
<p>"Yeah," Nicky sighs. "I don't know him as well as I should, either. Not much of a friend, am I?"</p>
<p>"Don't say that." Joe tugs him into a sort of sideways hug, arm tightening around Nicky's waist. "Nicky, you're a wonderful friend. I'm so glad I met you, and I'm sure Lykon is, too."</p>
<p>Nicky swallows and drops his head onto Joe's shoulder. Just for a minute, he tells himself. It's been a very stressful evening, he can permit himself this one indulgence.</p>
<p>That minute passes, then a few more. He can't quite bring himself to move away. But Joe doesn't seem to mind, so that's okay.</p>
<p>It's a long night.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Fortunately, Lykon is expected to make a full recovery, though it'll be several months before he's back on his feet. In the meantime, Andy hires one of Nile's flatmates as an additional bartender.</p>
<p>"Wait, didn't you used to date her?" Nicky does ask. He distinctly remembers some low-key drama to that effect around the holidays last year.</p>
<p>"Dizzy?" Nile shrugs. "Yeah, for a while, but we're cool now. Her new girlfriend Jay is awesome."</p>
<p>Joe tilts his head to one side, brows furrowed. "You're still flatmates with your ex? A year later?"</p>
<p>"Her girlfriend lives with us too," Nile assures him. "It's all good. Rent in London is expensive, you know? We've got a sweet place in a decent neighborhood, no way would I give that up."</p>
<p>Nicky and Joe exchange baffled looks. Booker snorts into his pint. "Lesbians," he mutters.</p>
<p>They drop the topic for the evening, but on the Tube home it comes up again. "Like, I'm still on decent terms with most of my exes," Joe says, gesticulating a bit more broadly than usual. "But I would not want to live with any of them!"</p>
<p>Nicky chuckles. "I do not have many exes to speak of, but I didn't really want to live with any of them even when we <em>were</em> dating. Which, come to think of it, is probably why those relationships ended."</p>
<p>"Usually a good sign, yeah," Joe agrees. "I tend to have the opposite problem." At Nicky's enquiring look, he shrugs ruefully. "I jump into things too quickly, fall in love too easily. It's how I wound up in the UK, actually. My boyfriend got a job here and I followed him. And then we broke up two months later, which, really, anyone could have told me was what would happen. My mother certainly did. But I get caught up in the romance of it all, and...here we are."</p>
<p><em>Christ</em>, Nicky thinks, no wonder he'd been so gunshy at Pride. Fresh out of a relationship like that...of course Joe was only looking for friendship. Of course he'd flinched away from Nicky's obvious interest.</p>
<p>"That must have been difficult," he says softly.</p>
<p>Joe shrugs again. "Mostly just embarrassing. And lonely. I hadn't realized that most of our friends were really <em>his</em> friends until...yeah. Fortunately by then I'd joined the gallery and I was on my final interview for this job, so I decided to stay here anyway. Better than slinking back home with my tail between my legs, you know?"</p>
<p>"I can understand that. I'm sorry he hurt you and put you in that position. But for what it's worth, I don't think that falling in love easily is something you should ever be embarrassed about. It just means you have a big heart, and there's <em>nothing</em> wrong with that." Nicky nudges Joe's shoulder lightly with his own. "And I'm definitely not sorry that it brought you to London."</p>
<p>Joe doesn't exactly smile, but it's in his eyes all the same. "Thanks, Nicky."</p>
<hr/>
<p>The holidays are a melancholy time for Nicky. He's not a Grinch about it, he certainly doesn't want to spoil anyone else's fun, but he hasn't been able to get into the spirit of the season since leaving the Church. For him, Christmas had always been about family and faith, and he doesn't really have either anymore. So, yeah.</p>
<p>The Guard certainly doesn't shut down for the holidays, but it does change in subtle ways. More out-of-towners, fewer regulars; Andy and Quỳnh usually take a week off around Christmas to visit Quỳnh's family in Manchester, leaving Celeste in charge of the pub. Booker is more aggressively depressed over the holidays than Nicky, and while Nicky doesn't mind indulging his misanthropy, he'd rather not wallow to quite that extent this year. That being said, tradition is tradition, so the Friday before Christmas finds the pair of them alone at the bar doing shots while Celeste and Dizzy ignore them both.</p>
<p>He's genuinely surprised when Joe shows up later in the evening. "Joe! You weren't in the office today, I assumed you were away for the holiday."</p>
<p>"I did take a few days off, but mostly because I'd lose the vacation time if I didn't use it," Joe says. "I'm flying home to see family for New Year's instead. Still, I figured you'd be here tonight. Nile's already back in the States?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, she flew out yesterday." Nicky eyes his shot glass, decides he's had more than enough for the moment, and pushes it down the bar to Joe. "Join us?"</p>
<p>Joe sniffs it, then grimaces and sets it back down untouched. In fairness, he never joins them for shots. "What the fuck are you drinking?"</p>
<p>"Shoe polish, probably," Booker mutters. "Whatever gets the job done, right?"</p>
<p>Joe exchanges a look with Nicky, who gives him a rueful shrug. "I'm keeping an eye on him, I promise."</p>
<p>They wind up pouring Booker into a cab about half an hour later, and by then Nicky is more than ready to call it a night himself, even though it's relatively early. "Sorry you came out just for that," he tells Joe as they wait for the Tube. "I would have warned you off if I'd known."</p>
<p>"Eh, I've had worse nights, honestly." Joe glances at him sidelong. "Booker usually holds his liquor better than that."</p>
<p>Nicky shoves his hands deep in his pockets. "He only gets truly drunk on special occasions. Christmas, his son's birthday…"</p>
<p>"He has a kid?"</p>
<p>"Ah, shit," Nicky sighs. "I forgot you wouldn't know. It feels like you've been part of the group for much longer. Yeah, Book used to be married. They had a son. He died young—leukemia—and the marriage ended not long after." His mouth twists. "Not many marriages survive the death of a child, in my experience. I can't imagine anything more difficult to endure."</p>
<p>"That's awful," Joe says quietly. "Will he be upset that you told me?"</p>
<p>Nicky considers it, wishing he were more sober himself. "No, I don't think so. He doesn't like to talk about it, but it has never been a secret. And you're our friend, Joe. Better you should know, rather than stumble upon it all unthinking." He gives Joe a faint smile. "So that's why he enjoys the holiday even less than I do. The least I can do is keep him company while he drinks."</p>
<p>When the train arrives, the car is crowded, so they're quiet for a few stops. Their shoulders bump every time the train sways. Eventually, Joe asks, "So why don't <em>you</em> like Christmas, then? I mean, I obviously don't celebrate, but I can still appreciate the festive spirit. Aside from the aggressively awful music in the shops."</p>
<p>"I like Christmas just fine in the abstract," Nicky says slowly. "But...it is complicated to find yourself on the outside of something you were once a part of. I should find new ways to celebrate, I suppose, but that just rings hollow to me."</p>
<p>He could say more, perhaps, but someone stumbles against him and he lets it go. He has a headache building in the base of his skull and doesn't particularly feel like having this conversation on a crowded train. He spends the rest of the ride lost in his own thoughts, only vaguely aware of Joe beside him, and bids him a distracted goodnight when they reach his station.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Around noon on Christmas day, while Nicky is having a lie-in and very much <em>not</em> moping, thank you, his phone buzzes with a text from Joe.</p>
<p>
  <em>Up for company? I won't be offended if you say no.</em>
</p>
<p>The corner of Nicky's mouth twitches a little in spite of himself. <em>What did you have in mind?</em></p>
<p>
  <em>Well we have this random day off you see, so I thought I might play tourist. You're welcome to join me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As long as it doesn't involve the Eye, sure.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh ye of little faith. Wear comfortable shoes. And a warm jacket.</em>
</p>
<p>The weather today's not too bad, for late December. Chilly and cloudy, of course, but no wind or rain, so for the standards of London winter, it's practically balmy.</p>
<p>He takes the Tube to Little Venice, a charming area on the junction of three canals with gardens and brightly colored houseboats. Nicky's never even heard of it before, though it's not far from more touristy districts. He finds Joe on a bench along the basin, sketchbook open in his lap. When he catches sight of Nicky, he grins and finishes up whatever he's working on, tucking the pad under his arm as he stands to meet him.</p>
<p>"I've heard there's a decent walk along the canal from here up to Regent's Park, if you're up for it," Joe says. He's wearing a bright blue scarf that looks incredibly soft; Nicky kind of wants to tangle his hands in it.</p>
<p>"That would be nice." He would agree to just about anything Joe suggested right now, but it really does sound like a pleasant walk. It feels good to stretch his legs a bit; he's inclined toward indolence in the winter, but once given an excuse, it's nice to leave his flat occasionally.</p>
<p>They follow the canal along tree-lined streets with pretty Regency-style houses. Nicky finds the brightly colored boats far more interesting than the architecture, and Joe launches into a comparison between this and the canals in Amsterdam, where Nicky has never been. He has been to the <em>real</em> Venice, though, several times, which looks absolutely nothing like this, and that leads them into a more generalized conversation about places they've traveled before and where they'd like to visit someday. Before Nicky quite realizes it, they're already at the park.</p>
<p>There's a large mosque right at the entrance to the park with a beautiful dome that glitters gold against the flat gray sky; that and the minaret are about all Nicky can see of it from the canal, and only because the trees are bare of leaves. "I've been inside, it's nice," Joe says, though he makes no move to veer off their current path. "My mother insisted on it when she visited, even though it's not exactly in our neighborhood. Ah, well, I try to be more observant when she's around. It pleases her."</p>
<p>"You've never spoken much about your faith," Nicky says quietly.</p>
<p>"The English seem to think it's rude to bring up religion in mixed company, so I generally refrain." Joe glances at him sidelong as they walk. "You don't mention yours, either."</p>
<p>"I suppose I no longer have any faith to speak of."</p>
<p>"That sounds like a story in itself, but it's all right if you'd rather not discuss it." Joe keeps his tone light, which Nicky appreciates. "For me, I've definitely lapsed as I've gotten older—I don't abstain from alcohol, as you probably noticed, though I try not to overindulge—but my faith is still a part of me. Even if I'm not a very good Muslim, it's a huge part of my culture and how I was raised, you know?"</p>
<p>"Of course. It shaped the man you have become."</p>
<p>Joe gives him another oblique look, and Nicky shoves his hands deeper into his coat pockets.</p>
<p>They stop at a bench to sit for a bit. Joe opens his sketchbook again, flipping to a fresh page. On the other side, Nicky can see the boat basin where they'd began, lovingly rendered in shades of gray. "That's beautiful."</p>
<p>"It's a start," Joe says, already focused on the next sketch, outlining the curve of the canal, the barren trees, the stately columns of a house of some kind that's nestled into the park grounds. "I'm trying to pull together a new series of prints for the gallery. That's what tends to actually sell there—smaller things, jewelry or cards or the like, and cheaper art prints. You know, touristy art that you can pop in a frame and hang in the loo."</p>
<p>Nicky huffs out a laugh. "I'm sure your sketches would be wonderful to stare at over the toilet."</p>
<p>Joe grins. "You bet. Anyway. I figured it would be an easy way to earn a few more quid, but I'm sick of all the usual crap—the Tower of London, the Eye, Westminster, Big Ben. That stuff's ubiquitous. So I thought I'd look for places off the beaten track—the parts of London you don't always see."</p>
<p>"Thank you for inviting me along, then," Nicky says, meaning it. "I've lived in this city for three years now and I've never been here before. To the park itself, yes, but not this part of it. It's quieter here. I like it."</p>
<p>"So do I."</p>
<p>They sit for a few minutes more, silence only broken by the scratch of Joe's pencil across the page and the distant sound of traffic. Nicky allows himself to get distracted by the flex of Joe's fingers around the pencil, the elegant shapes of his hands. Watching the landscape slowly unfold across the page is oddly soothing.</p>
<p>He's almost managed to forget that it's Christmas.</p>
<p>"I was in seminary," he says quietly, not sure quite where the words are coming from, but somehow it's important that Joe know this. "I would have been ordained as a priest by now, probably, if I had stayed."</p>
<p>Joe's hand stills for a moment, then resumes sketching. "What changed your mind?"</p>
<p>Nicky shrugs, even though he knows Joe isn't looking at him. He doesn't think he'd be able to talk about it if Joe was. "Coming to terms with my own sexuality was part of it, but really there was no one thing. Not like a light switching off. More like...it gradually grew dimmer and dimmer, until I realized I could no longer see a way forward. Not without folding myself into somebody who no longer allowed any part of <em>myself</em> to peer through at all." He inhales slowly, staring out at the still waters of the canal, then breathes out again. "My parents did not approve, of course. To put it mildly."</p>
<p>"Do you still have any kind of relationship with them?" Joe asks, so very gently.</p>
<p>"Not as such. They made it clear that I would be allowed home once I was ready to put this…<em>lifestyle</em> behind me. So I suppose we're at an impasse."</p>
<p>"I'm sorry."</p>
<p>"Don't be. They made their choice, and I made mine." Nicky gets to his feet, a restless energy thrumming under his skin, demanding that he <em>move</em>. Without commenting, Joe flips his book shut and follows him. "I'm sorry, I did not mean to interrupt—"</p>
<p>"No, it's okay, I already have what I need for now. Shall we?"</p>
<p>They continue onward, Joe smoothly shifting the conversation back to lighter topics, and Nicky lets himself shake off his momentary moodiness. There are a few other points where Joe stops them so that he can sketch for a few minutes. Though it's starting to get colder, Nicky doesn't mind.</p>
<p>Eventually, they follow the canal into Camden Town and find a pub where they can warm up and grab an early dinner. "You can't get more touristy than fish and chips," Joe points out with a wink.</p>
<p>Nicky rolls his eyes but indulges him. The food is exactly as greasy and vinegary as one might expect. It's not <em>bad</em>, it's just… "How can an empire colonize so many places yet never pick up any cooking tips?" he complains. "It's honestly embarrassing."</p>
<p>"They think salt is a spice, have pity," Joe says, laughing. "At least you can find decent curry in London."</p>
<p>"We should have gone for that instead."</p>
<p>"Next time," Joe promises. And Nicky has to quash the completely ridiculous flutter at the implication of a <em>next time</em>, because of course there would be a next time. They're friends, they hang out together on a weekly basis.</p>
<p>It's just that this is the nicest date he's been on in longer than he cares to remember, and it's not even a date. Nicky is having a great deal of difficulty reminding himself of that fact, or remembering why it needs to stay this way. Just because of a dumb pact they'd made on one tipsy night at the Guard? Surely that was not a binding agreement. They'd hardly even known each other then.</p>
<p>Joe steals the last chip off Nicky's plate, laughing when Nicky tries to bat his hand away, his eyes warm and bright. And Nicky thinks, <em>maybe next time</em>.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Nicky rings in New Year's Eve at the Guard, of course; where else? Andy and Quỳnh are back by then, as is Nile; Booker has decided to lighten up on the alcohol for a while and toasts them with ginger ale instead of champagne. Even Lykon makes an appearance, leaning on crutches with his whole leg from hip to toe swathed in a massive cast, but he's grinning as widely as ever and clearly much improved.</p>
<p>Only Joe is missing, and Nicky is briefly gutted until he remembers that he'd said he would be visiting family. All the same, it's a good night. Nile plants a sloppy kiss on Nicky's cheek right at midnight, giggling, and he admits to himself with a smile that he has high hopes for the new year.</p>
<p>And then Joe returns to London with a new boyfriend.</p>
<p>Those two facts are not quite related; it's not like Joe picked him up in the Netherlands and then carried him home. But they did have a very rom-com style meet cute at Heathrow, both hailing the same cab and then deciding to share it instead. Joe tells the whole story to their group very charmingly over drinks the following Friday.</p>
<p>Nicky smiles and laughs at all the right parts, and then he excuses himself to the loo so that he can fall apart for a minute where no one will see. He knows he's being very stupid, but he would like just one minute to quietly mourn what might have been. He'd been <em>this</em> close to asking Joe out properly. Sure, there's a decent chance Joe would have turned him down—he certainly had at Pride—but at least Nicky would have known he'd <em>tried</em>. This just feels deeply unfair. </p>
<p>When he emerges from the stall, he finds Andy leaning casually against the sinks, arms folded across her chest.</p>
<p>"This is the men's room," Nicky says, out of some kind of shock-based reflex.</p>
<p>"It's technically an all-gender restroom. It's just the one that happens to have urinals," she retorts. "Are you done sulking yet?"</p>
<p>Nicky sighs and elbows her aside so that he can wash his hands. "I'm not sulking."</p>
<p>"You absolutely are. Quỳnh has been making puppy dog eyes at me behind Joe's back all night, and there's only so much of that shit I can take. Would you two get your acts together already? He's been on like one date with this guy, he's not marrying him. Man up and talk to him about it."</p>
<p>"There's nothing to talk about," Nicky insists. "Joe is my friend. I'm glad he's found someone who seems to appreciate him."</p>
<p>Andy's eyes narrow. "Is this about that stupid Pride pact or whatever?"</p>
<p>He wants to hit his head against the mirror repeatedly. "Quỳnh told you about that, huh?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, shockingly enough, she's my wife and she tells me things, especially when it involves our friends being idiots. What was that really about, anyway?"</p>
<p>Nicky hardly remembers anymore, honestly. "It was Pride, we were drinking, I probably hit on him, he let me down gently. As is very much his right. Drop it, Andy, please? He's clearly still not interested. I'll get over it."</p>
<p>"If you say so," Andy says dubiously.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It takes another six weeks or so, but eventually Joe does bring his new boyfriend around to meet them. His name is Thomas; he's blandly handsome in an Etonian sort of way, and he's clearly too posh for the Guard but trying very hard to downplay it. To his credit, he seems nice enough, if a little boring. He works in finance but waves it off as being too dull to be worth discussing, and has a great admiration for modern art. He isn't shitty to the bar staff, listens politely when other people are speaking, and stands a round for the whole group without prompting.</p>
<p>There's absolutely nothing wrong with him.</p>
<p>"Oh my God, I can't <em>stand</em> him," Nile mutters, when she and Nicky take their own turn to fetch drinks for the table upstairs. "How can someone as lively as Joe fall in with someone so <em>dull</em>?"</p>
<p>"Be fair, he's only just met us," Nicky says, striving for objectivity. "Maybe we just need to get to know him better."</p>
<p>Nile groans. "Do we have to, though?"</p>
<p>Privately, Nicky agrees.</p>
<p>He expects Joe and Thomas to go home together at the end of the night, but they kiss goodbye just outside the pub and Thomas calls a cab, alone. "He's got a family thing tomorrow morning," Joe explains, seemingly unbothered by it, as they head for the Tube as usual. "And we're not quite at the meet-the-parents stage yet, you know?"</p>
<p>"I thought you always jump into things too quickly," Nicky teases, to cover his relief. "Are you actually taking your time with this one?"</p>
<p>Joe smiles crookedly. "After the last time, yeah, I thought I'd try playing it safe for a change."</p>
<p><em>And Thomas is certainly that,</em> Nicky does not say aloud.</p>
<p>It's not until they're on the train that Joe finally says, "I don't think the others liked Thomas much. Quỳnh especially."</p>
<p>"She's probably being a little overprotective of you, that's all," Nicky says, trying to shrug it off. "You should have seen her when Nile first introduced Dizzy to us all, back when they were dating. No one could possibly be good enough for our Nile." He smiles to himself, remembering Quỳnh's narrow-eyed disapproval, contrasting it with how comfortable Dizzy's presence behind the bar is now. "They came around to her eventually."</p>
<p>"So what do <em>you</em> think of him, Nicky?" Joe asks.</p>
<p>Nicky should have known this was coming. He can't bring himself to lie to Joe, but he certainly can't tell him what he <em>really</em> thinks, which honestly has less to do with Thomas himself and more with his own inconvenient feelings. "It doesn't matter what I think."</p>
<p>"Yes, it does," Joe says, quietly but no less insistent for it. "You matter to me, your opinion matters."</p>
<p>His brown eyes are intent on Nicky's, so warm and sincere, and Nicky's stomach does an awkward little flip. He swallows hard and tries to match Joe's sincerity with his own. "I think that meeting someone's friends for the first time is not easy when you know you're being judged," he says slowly, carefully. "You don't always show the best side of yourself in that situation. But...if he makes you happy, then it truly does not matter what any of us think. We will come to see him as you do in time." He breathes deeply, then adds, "But if he doesn't, then he's not worth a single minute of your time. You deserve to be with someone who makes you happy, Joe."</p>
<p>Joe just <em>looks</em> at him, and Nicky can't begin to read the expression on his face. When the silence stretches out a bit too long, the residual Catholic part of him that is a glutton for punishment prompts Nicky to ask, "Does he? Make you happy?"</p>
<p>After another moment, Joe blinks rapidly a few times, and finally looks away. "He...makes me feel interesting, and attractive," he says. There's a note in his voice that sounds like he really is considering this carefully. "And that's certainly a nice feeling."</p>
<p>Nicky nods, hopefully in a supportive manner. "You are definitely both of those things. So that sounds like a good place to start?"</p>
<p>"Yeah," Joe murmurs. "A start."</p>
<p>He doesn't quite meet Nicky's eyes for the rest of the train ride, clearly lost in thought, which is just as well. Nicky's not sure he wants to know what Joe might see in his own expression right now.</p>
<hr/>
<p>For all that they work for the same organization, Nicky doesn't actually see Joe in the office very often. Their departments aren't even on the same floor of the building, and there's very little overlap between them. International Affairs is a fairly insular bunch, the translators even more so; Nicky spends far more time on calls or Zoom meetings with their partners in other countries than he does with literally anyone else within their own offices. Well, he supposes he interacts with IT periodically, but that's about it. Apart from the quarterly staff meetings, there's not a whole lot of cross-pollination between the various departments. Quỳnh complains about that a lot, mostly because she's a few rungs higher on the ladder than Nicky or Nile, and therefore is the only one of them who gets stuck in Development meetings every week.</p>
<p>After one such meeting, she appears at Nicky's desk without warning and hands his coat to him. "You need to fetch Joe out of here before he gets himself fired."</p>
<p>Nicky blinks at her. "What?"</p>
<p>"Funder meeting," Quỳnh says crisply. "Steven Merrick just ripped apart his design for the new campaign in front of a bunch of department heads. He's wrong, by the way, but he's a major funder, so his wrongness is irrelevant. Joe pushed back, Merrick got pissy, it devolved from there. Merrick and Joe's boss are hashing it out in her office, she's got his back on this, but if Joe's still hanging around in <em>this</em> mood when they emerge, it will not go well for him. Please take him out for lunch or something until Merrick's gone."</p>
<p>"It's three in the afternoon," Nicky points out, but he's already shrugging on his coat.</p>
<p>"Whatever. I'll make some excuse to your manager. Just go."</p>
<p>He goes, doing his best to take the least circuitous route from his desk to Joe's, which involves skirting around half the perimeter of his floor and up an internal staircase and then back around to the other side of the building. So, yeah, there's a reason he doesn't tend to run into Joe at the office.</p>
<p>Marketing takes up an entire corner wing of their floor, and Joe's cubicle is right across from his boss's office. Her door is closed and Nicky winces to hear the raised voices behind it. Joe is blatantly eavesdropping, leaning against his cubicle divider.</p>
<p>One look at the thunderclouds gathering across Joe’s face is enough to convince Nicky. "Come on," he says, stepping directly in front of Joe, hands on his hips. "Get your coat, we're getting coffee. Or possibly something stronger."</p>
<p>Joe's eyebrows draw together in confusion, which is better than the anger that had been building there before. "Nicky? What are you…?"</p>
<p>"Quỳnh told me about the meeting. Let's take a break." Nicky elbows past Joe to fetch his jacket, which is hanging haphazardly off the back of his chair. "Here. You need anything else?"</p>
<p>"No, but—"</p>
<p>"Great. Let's go." Nicky hesitates, then links his arm around Joe's and starts towing him gently away from the closed door. One of Joe's coworkers sees them and gives Nicky a quick thumbs up before ducking back to her own work.</p>
<p>By the time they reach the elevator, Joe has reluctantly gotten with the program and donned his jacket, though he's clearly not happy about it. "Merrick is a pretentious gasbag who doesn't know the first thing about marketing."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know, but you are not talking about it here." The elevator dings open, and Nicky more or less manhandles him inside.</p>
<p>Joe's head thunks back against the wall as they descend. "I'm gonna get fired, aren't I?"</p>
<p>"No," Nicky tells him firmly. "Because you are very good at your job and your boss believes in you and your work. So we are just gonna step away and let this nonsense blow over. It will be fine, I promise you."</p>
<p>They end up in some hipster coffeeshop a few blocks from the office. Nicky doesn't really want to encourage day drinking in Joe's current mood, especially since he doesn't normally drink much alcohol. Joe rants for a while over a succession of herbal teas, and Nicky lets him. It's always best to drain the poison from a wound first.</p>
<p>"It's just exhausting to deal with this level of bullshit," Joe sighs, when he's exorcised the worst of it. There are tired lines drawn from his nose down to the corners of his mouth. "Like, this isn't even my passion, you know? It's just a day job. Why do I let myself get so upset over a damn marketing campaign?"</p>
<p>"Because you care," Nicky says simply. "Your art is still art, even if it's not what you would prefer to be doing. Your work matters to you. Why did you choose <em>this</em> job in the first place? You could probably make twice the salary at some fancy marketing firm."</p>
<p>Joe shrugs, staring down at his cup. "Because I'd still like to keep some fragment of my soul intact, I guess. At least I know our organization is genuinely working to make the world a better place, and if I can play some small role in that...I try to tell myself it's worth it."</p>
<p>"I think it is. You're a good person, Joe. Fuck Merrick, anyway, what does he know?"</p>
<p>That startles a laugh out of Joe, at least, and there's a little more warmth in his eyes when he looks back up at Nicky. "Yeah, seriously." He glances down at his phone, frowning. "Shit, I'm sorry to have ranted at you for so long, it's almost five. Don't you need to get back to the office?"</p>
<p>Nicky gives him a small smile. "Don't worry about it, Quỳnh's covering for me. Do you want another tea?"</p>
<p>"Not really, but I could probably use something stronger now."</p>
<p>"All right," Nicky says, pushing back his chair. "The Guard?"</p>
<p>Joe hesitates, considering it. "No, I'd kind of rather not have to deal with everyone else right now. I love them, but that's just not...no. Can we go someplace new?"</p>
<p>"Sure, whatever you'd like." Nicky pauses. "If you'd rather be alone, I'd understand."</p>
<p>"No!" Joe says at once. "I didn't mean <em>you</em>. You're not everyone."</p>
<p>Something tightens in Nicky's chest, tugging at him. "I'm not?"</p>
<p>"Of course not." Joe gives him that beautifully crooked smile. "You're Nicky."</p>
<p>They find an old pub near the train station, with a booth tucked into a dark corner where no one will pay them the slightest bit of attention, and wind up staying there way too late for a weeknight, talking about nothing in particular. Nicky does ask at one point if Joe would like to invite his boyfriend to join them, but he just shrugs it off, saying that Thomas works with entitled assholes like Merrick all day, every day, and Joe doesn't need that particular perspective right now.</p>
<p>The night ends with Joe falling asleep on the Tube, head on Nicky's shoulder. Nicky doesn't have the heart to wake him, so he waits until the last possible minute. "Come on, let's get you home," he murmurs into Joe's ear just as they pull into the station. "Joe, wake up, it's your stop."</p>
<p>Joe blinks owlishly up at him, but allows himself to be gently tugged up to his feet and off the train. "Wait," he says, once they've emerged out onto the street. "This is my station."</p>
<p>"Yes, I know," Nicky says wryly.</p>
<p>"But you missed yours."</p>
<p>"Don't worry, it's not too far out of my way. Can I walk you home?"</p>
<p>Joe pulls a face at him, but he keeps his arm linked with Nicky's, hand sneaking into the warm pocket of Nicky's coat. "You really didn't have to, I'm fine."</p>
<p>"I know," Nicky says agreeably. "But I'll feel better if I can see you home, okay?"</p>
<p>It takes him another twenty minutes to walk back to his own flat after dropping Joe off, but he doesn't mind at all. The night is clear and cold, and the wind feels good against his face.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Joe's relationship putters along until the spring, and when it ends it makes no tangible impact on any of their lives. He never did bring Thomas around to the Guard again after that first meeting, so it's not like they had a chance to miss him.</p>
<p>"So what happened?" Andy does ask.</p>
<p>Joe shrugs. "Nothing in particular. It just clearly wasn't going anywhere, that's all."</p>
<p>"Thank <em>God</em>," Nile says fervently. "He was so boring, Joe, I can't begin to tell you."</p>
<p>"He was much more interesting in bed," Joe tells her with a wink. "But yeah, that only gets you so far."</p>
<p>That is definitely more information than Nicky ever needed to know about Thomas, but he can be magnanimous now that the man is an <em>ex</em>-boyfriend.</p>
<p>"So, what are you looking for tonight?" Booker asks, slinging a friendly arm across Joe's shoulders. "A space to vent, a drink to drown your sorrows, or a warm body to replace him?"</p>
<p>Joe waggles his eyebrows. "Are you offering, Book?"</p>
<p>"Eh, no thanks," Booker says, over Andy and Quỳnh's raucous laughter. "But it's a gay bar, I'm sure we can find you someone." He grins across the table at Nicky. "How about you, Nicky? Willing to take one for the team?"</p>
<p>Nicky's spine stiffens, and he refuses to so much as glance over at Joe, forcing himself to keep his tone appropriately dry. "Yes, because it has always been my dream to be someone's rebound shag."</p>
<p>"Yeah, seriously, Booker, that's kind of gauche," Nile says, rolling her eyes. "Anyway, these two won't hook up, they made a <em>Pride pact</em>."</p>
<p>All of Nicky's goodwill toward her evaporates instantly.</p>
<p>Joe barks out a laugh, with a sharp glance in Nicky's direction. "They know about that?"</p>
<p>Nicky groans, resting his head in his hands. "In fairness, I was very tipsy when I told them, and I promise that I already regret all my life choices."</p>
<p>"What the hell is a Pride pact?" Booker asks, bemused.</p>
<p>Quỳnh gestures disdainfully. "They made some kind of agreement not to sleep together."</p>
<p>"Uh, okay, but why exactly?"</p>
<p>"Because meddlesome matchmakers like you kept trying to push us together without asking either of our opinions about it," Joe says lightly. When Nicky lifts his head enough to look at him properly, he's got a pleasant smile plastered on his face. It doesn't reach his eyes. "Fortunately, we're much better off as friends. Right, Nicky?"</p>
<p>"Right," Nicky agrees, struggling to match his smile. "And see, Joe has already lasted much longer than any of the men I've brought around to meet you lot, so it's worked out quite well."</p>
<p>"That's because Quỳnh scares off everyone's potential suitors," Nile laughs over Quỳnh's indignant protests. She kindly refrains from pointing out that it's been well over a year since Nicky last dated anyone at all. "Remember when Dizzy first met her? Poor Thomas never stood a chance."</p>
<p>That leads into a spirited discussion of everyone's least impressive exes, which carries them through the rest of the evening. Nicky begs off much earlier than usual, claiming exhaustion after a stressful work week, and isn't sure whether to be disappointed or relieved when Joe doesn't join him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Quỳnh unexpectedly takes Nicky out to lunch one rainy day in April, dragging him to some trendy fusion restaurant that's a bit further from the office than usual. "Listen," she says, once they've ordered. "Your manager would absolutely kill me if he knew I was telling you this, but...remember James Copley?"</p>
<p>Nicky searches his memory. One of Quỳnh's colleagues from a previous job, he thinks, though she's always been vague about what their precise occupation had been in a way that implied government work. Every now and then Quỳnh gets sick of the Guard and decides to throw a fancy dinner party. He's pretty sure Copley had attended a few of those. "I think so. Soft-spoken, but sharp eyes?"</p>
<p>Quỳnh smirks. "That's a pretty good description, actually. Yes. He's at Amnesty International these days, and apparently they're looking for a new European specialist. Want me to float your name?"</p>
<p>"What, you don't like sharing office space with me anymore?" Nicky teases, though his mind is racing.</p>
<p>"Seriously, it would be a great opportunity for you," Quỳnh says. "You're kind of wasted just as a translator. This would entail a lot more actual policy work, and translating for the governmental level rather than just private contractors. You know there's nowhere for you to move up in our department unless someone above you gets hit by a bus or something, those guys are entrenched there. Frankly, I'd throw Nile's hat into the ring as well, but Europe's not her specialty." Nile's focus is the Middle East; she'd started as an Arabic linguist for the US Marines before branching out into Farsi, Urdu, and about five other regional languages that Nicky can never remember. "And it would probably involve travel, which I know you enjoy."</p>
<p>Nicky fiddles with his water glass, considering it. He has been getting pretty frustrated with work lately, and a good part of that is how repetitive it's become. Same shit, different day, as Nile would say. This at least sounds <em>different</em>. "Okay, yes. I'd be interested. It's still based in London, though, right?"</p>
<p>"Of course! I don't want to lose you entirely." Quỳnh reaches across the table to pat his cheek. "Send me your current CV and I'll pass it along to James."</p>
<p>"Sure. Just…" He's not sure where the sudden hesitation comes from, but: "Don't mention it to the others, okay? If nothing comes of this, I'd rather they didn't know."</p>
<p>"Don't want Joe to think you're bailing on him, huh?" Quỳnh tilts her head thoughtfully. "Actually, you know, it would probably be <em>easier</em> to date him if you left the company. No paperwork to file with HR and jinx the whole thing."</p>
<p>"That's not at all what I meant," Nicky tells her severely, but she just smirks at him, clearly unmoved.</p>
<hr/>
<p>He does wind up meeting with Copley, and it goes well enough that he has his first interview with Amnesty shortly thereafter, and then a second. As someone accustomed to the glacial pace at which NGOs tend to handle hiring decisions, this all seems to be moving surprisingly fast. As a result, Nicky is rather more distracted than usual for a few weeks, so he genuinely has no idea what Nile is talking about when she corners him one afternoon to ask what he's planning to wear that night.</p>
<p>"Wear?" Nicky repeats blankly.</p>
<p>"Yeah, 'cause I'm not sure if we're supposed to dress up or what, or if like business casual is okay. I don't wanna just show up in my work clothes, you know?" When he just blinks at her, she smacks his shoulder. "Joe's exhibit opening tonight! Christ, Nicky, you can't have forgotten?"</p>
<p>He curses fluently in several different languages, thunking his head down on his desk. "That's tonight?"</p>
<p>Joe has been talking about this exhibit for weeks, and he's <em>so</em> excited about it. His first proper gallery showing in London—in Shoreditch, no less, not too far from their office. It's not a solo exhibit, there are four other artists being featured, but Nicky knows it's still a big deal. He's genuinely thrilled for Joe. He's had it on his calendar for ages. He just...lost all track of the days. Honestly, if you held a gun to his head right now, he's not sure he could even tell you what month it is. May, right? It must be May by now. Probably not June yet.</p>
<p>"Boy, are you lucky I reminded you, huh?" Nile says, amused. "Joe would have been so mad if you missed it. No, not mad, <em>disappointed</em>, which is way worse."</p>
<p>"Way worse," Nicky agrees. "Fuck, I am the worst friend ever. Maybe Quỳnh will know more about the dress code? And what time are we supposed to be there?"</p>
<p>Quỳnh instructs them to "Dress pretty, but not formal," and they agree to meet at the gallery at eight. Which gives Nicky a couple of hours at home to stress out about his wardrobe. He's never cared about fashion—Nile tells him he's clearly missing the gay gene on that one—so even having to <em>think</em> about it is nearly paralyzing. In the end, he only owns two suits; he picks the gray one because the black seems too funereal, and then opts for a blue shirt that a former boyfriend always said brought out his eyes. Whatever the hell that means. He skips a tie and leaves the top couple of buttons undone, then stares helplessly at his hair in a mirror for a while before giving up and leaving it alone. If it's acceptable for the office, hopefully it's good enough for tonight.</p>
<p>He has no reason to feel so antsy. It's just that it's an important night for Joe, Nicky tells himself, and he doesn't want to embarrass him. That's all.</p>
<p>The fact that Joe has been holding him at arm's length ever since his breakup...well, they've both been busier than usual lately. Joe's been preparing for the exhibit, and Nicky's been interviewing for the job he still hasn't told anyone else about. It's probably for the best, anyway. Nicky is a grown-ass adult, not a teenager with a crush. He needs to let it go already. A little distance will do him good.</p>
<p>He tells himself that right up until the moment he steps into the gallery with Nile and sees Joe. Joe, who is wearing a dark blue suit and waistcoat with silver pinstripes that looks like it's been tailored to his body, his curls artfully styled and falling gently into his face. Joe, who continues to be the most beautiful man Nicky has ever seen, except now Nicky also knows that he's clever and kind and charming as well, with a crooked smile and elegant hands and a warm voice that gets hoarse when he speaks passionately about the things he cares most about. Mother of God, Nicky never stood a chance, did he?</p>
<p>"You're gonna catch flies like that," Nile mutters, elbowing him none too gently, and Nicky realizes his mouth has indeed dropped open. He swallows and glares at her. She just smiles sweetly and tugs him forward.</p>
<p>Joe is already talking to Andy and Quỳnh, and beams when he sees them approach. "You made it!"</p>
<p>"Of course, what kind of friends do you think we are?" Nile says, going in to kiss his cheek. "You clean up so nice! Show us around?"</p>
<p>"Nile did her minor in art history," Andy says, in a tone that almost passes for fond, for Andy. "Be prepared for her to talk your ear off."</p>
<p>"Just 'cause you think Monet and Manet are the same person—"</p>
<p>They bicker amicably for a bit while Quỳnh sips champagne and looks amused. Joe turns to Nicky in the meantime, his smile softening. "Nicky, I'm so glad you could come."</p>
<p>Nicky would very much like his own champagne flute right now. His mouth feels very dry. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. You do look great tonight, by the way."</p>
<p>For just an instant, Nicky almost imagines something like heat flashing in Joe's dark eyes. "So do you."</p>
<p>He's saved from coming up with a coherent response by Nile, who takes Joe's arm. "All right, stop flirting and show me your work, Mr. Big Shot Artist Man."</p>
<p>"Nicky and I don't flirt, we made a pact about that, remember?" Joe tells her with a wink, and lets her pull him away. Nicky follows in their wake, trying to ignore the sinking sensation in his stomach.</p>
<p>Joe's art is staggeringly beautiful, of course. His city painting from their local gallery is here, as is the hills-or-ocean landscape that Nicky still can't quite pin down. He's expanded the series to include three more pieces, each in its own color spectrum, each with those striking flickers of silver. One is definitely a moonlit sea, all pale blues and greens and grays, with flecks of gold in its depths. Nicky lets the others move on as he stares into it for a long while, ignoring the tinkle and buzz of conversation around him.</p>
<p>He's not sure how much time has passed when he feels a touch on his shoulder and nearly jumps out of his skin. "Sorry," Joe says, hand raised placatingly. "I didn't mean to startle you."</p>
<p>"No, no, it's okay. I must have zoned out for a minute there." Nicky scrubs a hand across his face. "Long week. Long several weeks, actually."</p>
<p>"Tell me about it," Joe sighs. He eyes Nicky sidelong, uncharacteristically hesitant. "I'm sorry if I've been...distant lately."</p>
<p>"Not at all," Nicky assures him, though his chest tightens a little. "I understand how much work you must have been putting into all this. On top of, you know, office work."</p>
<p>Joe nods at the painting, drawing Nicky's attention back to it. "Think it was worth it?" </p>
<p>"Very much so. It's gorgeous, Joe. The swirling blues and grays, the way it flows across the canvas…"</p>
<p>"I don't know," Joe murmurs. "I'm still not sure I got the colors quite right."</p>
<p>When Nicky turns his head, though, Joe is looking directly at him, not at the painting. He can't begin to interpret the expression in those rich brown eyes. "What do you mean?"</p>
<p>Joe hesitates again, lips parting, but whatever he might have said is lost to someone calling his name from across the room. He starts and looks back over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, I need to—"</p>
<p>"Of course, go," Nicky tells him. "It's your night. Enjoy it."</p>
<p>Joe just nods and turns away, and Nicky lets him go.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Their office closes early one Friday in late June for some reason Nicky can't recall, so of course they decide to head directly to the Guard to enjoy it. Nicky's been on edge all afternoon—Copley indicated that they would be making their final decision about the position soon, and he knows if he doesn't hear about it today he's just going to stress out about it all weekend. Even if he doesn't get the job, he just wants to <em>know</em> and be done with it. He keeps his mobile face up on the bar next to him and completely fails to pay attention to whatever story Nile is regaling them all with.</p>
<p>His screen lights up with an incoming call just before five o'clock, and he's out the door almost before he consciously registers it.</p>
<p>Ten minutes or so later, he wanders back inside, still a little shell shocked. Joe and Booker have migrated down to the end of the bar, talking animatedly—given the gesticulations, Nicky would bet the topic involves football, which he's never quite managed to care about—while Andy lines up shots for Nile and Quỳnh. Quỳnh looks up as soon as Nicky walks in, expectantly.</p>
<p>"Was that it?" she asks.</p>
<p>Nicky nods slowly. "I got the job."</p>
<p>"Fantastic!" Quỳnh jumps up and throws her arms around him. "Nicky, that's wonderful, congratulations!"</p>
<p>Nile folds her arms across her chest suspiciously. "Hold up, what's going on?"</p>
<p>Nicky rubs the back of his neck. "I, uh, applied for a job with Amnesty International, in their European section. And I just got it."</p>
<p>"You <em>what</em>?" Nile screeches. Heads turn, including Joe's and Booker's. She ignores them. "And you never told me?!"</p>
<p>"I'm telling you now?" Nicky tries.</p>
<p>Of course that doesn't placate her. She punches his shoulder hard enough that it'll probably bruise, then yanks him into a painfully tight hug. "You absolute <em>bastard</em>, how fucking dare you," she says, directly into his ear, before releasing him. "Also, that's freaking awesome, good for you!"</p>
<p>"What is going on?" Joe asks, bemused, as he and Booker rejoin the rest of them.</p>
<p>"Nicky is <em>leaving us</em>," Nile informs him.</p>
<p>It's hard to tell in the dimly lit pub, but Nicky would swear all the color drains from Joe's face. "He's <em>what</em>?"</p>
<p>"See, that's what I'm saying!"</p>
<p>"I'm not going anywhere," Nicky assures them both. "It's just a new job, I'm not even leaving the neighborhood. Their offices are only a few blocks away from ours! We can still meet for lunch, even."</p>
<p>"But it won't be the same," Nile wails, and insists they all do a round of consolation shots so that she can properly absorb this terrible blow.</p>
<p>That leads of course into celebratory shots for Nicky's new job, which leads into a general level of inebriation that their group very rarely achieves, despite the fact that they literally hang out in a bar together once a week. Joe and Andy are the only two who remain more or less sober—Joe because he never has more than one or two drinks in any given night, and Andy because she can hold her liquor to a degree that is truly scary.</p>
<p>Nicky leans into being a happy drunk that night, for the most part, though he knows he will deeply regret this in the morning. He's not in his twenties anymore. But he just landed a great new job, his friends are awesome, and he really feels like he's found a family and a home here in London. It's worth getting a little silly drunk over.</p>
<p>He's informing Nile of all of these facts in detail, probably not in English, lying with his head in her lap and looking up at her lovely face and very pretty braids. He would like to learn how to make braids like that, though even drunk, he knows better than to ask her. She just giggles fondly and shakes her head.</p>
<p>"Hey, Joe!" she calls across the balcony, where they'd all retreated once the downstairs area started filling up. "You should come fetch your man, here. I think he's gonna need help getting home."</p>
<p>That sounds wonderful to Nicky. He sits up, and it only takes him a few tries to get more or less upright. By then Joe is there, which is also wonderful.</p>
<p>"He's not <em>mine</em>, he's his own man," Joe says teasingly, ruffling Nicky's hair. "Pride pact."</p>
<p>Nicky frowns abruptly. He really, really wishes people would stop bringing that up. Especially Joe. "Yes, I remember," he says, and it comes out more sharply than he intended. He bats Joe's hand away. "And I can get home on my own."</p>
<p>Nile and Joe exchange a look behind his back, which irks him further. Whatever. He gets to his feet, and the world spins only for a second before settling into place. Okay. He can do this. He needs a piss first, but then he can do this.</p>
<p>He takes his time in the loo, then drinks some water from the sink and splashes his face with it to start sobering up. It helps a little. He feels steady enough on his feet now, at least, and the walk to the Tube will also help.</p>
<p>Joe is waiting for him just outside the toilets. "You okay?"</p>
<p>"I'm fine," Nicky tells him. "You can stay here if you're having fun, I just need to sleep it off."</p>
<p>"I'd rather make sure you get home okay. Want to get a taxi for once?"</p>
<p>Nicky closes his eyes for a moment, bracing himself against the wall. If he's being honest—and he is nothing if not honest when he's drunk—he doesn't fancy facing the Tube right now. "Sure."</p>
<p>Once in the cab, he ignores Joe as best he can, resting his head against the window. The glass feels cool against his face. Finally, Joe breaks the silence. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know what I said that pissed you off so much, but whatever it was, I am sorry."</p>
<p>"Okay," Nicky tells the window, still not looking at him.</p>
<p>"Nicky." When he doesn't respond, Joe reaches out to rub Nicky's shoulder. "C'mon, please. I don't think you've ever been mad at me before, and I really want to make it right. This sucks."</p>
<p>Nicky considers shrugging him off, but realizes he's already leaning into Joe's touch in spite of himself. "It's nothing, it's stupid. I'll probably forget about it in the morning anyway."</p>
<p>"I won't, though. Please, Nicky, just talk to me—"</p>
<p>"I just wish you would stop bringing up the damn Pride pact," Nicky says, all in a rush, knowing exactly how ridiculous he must sound. "Like—it's fine, whatever, I know you and I are never going to…" He swallows and shakes his head. "I've made my peace with it. But you don't need to keep reminding all our friends exactly how unfuckable you think I am."</p>
<p>Joe freezes, his grip on Nicky's shoulder tightening. "That's not—"</p>
<p>"I know that is not how you intend it," Nicky says quietly. "It's just a joke at this point, but that's how it feels, so. I wish you wouldn't."</p>
<p>"Nicky…"</p>
<p>Nicky closes his eyes. "That's all I have to say."</p>
<p>Thankfully, they reach his street shortly after that, and he shoves some wadded up bills at Joe to cover his half of the fare and jumps out as quickly as he can. Joe makes no attempt to follow him.</p>
<p>He does not sleep well that night.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Nicky avoids Joe for the entire following week. He keeps his mobile switched off all weekend, so that he won't even know if Joe <em>tries</em> to text or call him, and goes out of his way to dodge even the slightest possibility of running into him at the office. Which isn't too hard, since he gives his boss his two weeks' notice first thing Monday morning, and spends the rest of the week preparing a transition memo and frantically tying off all his open projects. Nile keeps shooting him sympathetic looks when she thinks he doesn't notice, but she keeps their conversations light and easy. Quỳnh takes them both out to lunch more than once that week.</p>
<p>The next weekend, though, is Pride. It always seems to catch him by surprise. They generally skip their Friday evening at the Guard on Pride weekend, since they know they'll be there all Saturday night instead. Nicky very nearly begs it off entirely, but Nile is adamant. She shows up at his flat armed with rainbow glitter and makeup on Saturday afternoon, as per, and bullies him into the annual Raiding of the Closet to find his sluttiest outfits. He had the good sense to throw out that too-tight shirt from last year, at least, but she always manages to find <em>something</em> he'd forgotten he ever owned, and this year is no different.</p>
<p>He puts his foot down at fishnets; where the fuck did those even come from? He's pretty sure she must have snuck them into his dresser at some point last year, because he definitely never bought them for himself.</p>
<p>"I wish you'd tell me what the fight was about," she says quietly as she carefully draws on his eyeliner. Another battle he loses every goddamn year. "Joe seems pretty worked up over it."</p>
<p>"It wasn't even a fight," Nicky sighs. "We didn't argue or anything. I just...got disproportionately upset over something stupid and said some things I shouldn't have. I'll apologize if he's there tonight."</p>
<p>"From what little Joe has said, it sounds like he thinks <em>he's</em> the one who needs to apologize."</p>
<p>Nicky realizes this. He has seventeen unread text messages from Joe that he hasn't been able to bring himself to look at. He's just not ready to face him yet.</p>
<p>The Guard is packed when they arrive. Andy waves at them from the balcony, but she's alone up there; Quỳnh is behind the bar with Lykon and Celeste, covering Dizzy's smoke break. Booker will likely show up late if at all, and Joe is nowhere to be seen.</p>
<p>After last week's fiasco, Nicky has no interest in alcohol. He may never drink again. He orders a soda for appearance's sake and sips it slowly up on the balcony, keeping an eye on the entrance and half-listening to Andy and Nile's conversation.</p>
<p>It only takes another twenty minutes or so before Joe shows up.</p>
<p>He immediately peers up toward the balcony. Nicky gives him a tentative wave, knowing there's no way out but through at this point, and more or less resigned to it. Honestly, he's missed Joe so much this week that it's a tangible ache behind his ribcage. Anything would be better than this.</p>
<p>Joe makes a beeline for the staircase, bypassing the bar entirely, and Nicky abandons his soda on their table and goes to meet him. Unlike most of the crowd here tonight, Joe isn't dressed any differently than usual. He's still beautiful enough to take Nicky's breath away.</p>
<p>They stand there motionless for a minute, face to face, just looking at each other.</p>
<p>"I'm sorry," they finally both say at once, and Joe chuckles, ducking his head.</p>
<p>"I really am, though," Nicky goes on. "Both for lashing out at you for no reason, and then for avoiding you all week. I haven't even looked at your texts. I'm so sorry, it was incredibly stupid of me."</p>
<p>"There's nothing stupid about it," Joe says quietly. It should be difficult to hear him over the pulsing music, but Nicky doesn't miss a single word. "I never meant to hurt you. I didn't even realize how often I'd been bringing up that ridiculous pact lately."</p>
<p>Nicky shrugs. "It wasn't that often. I overreacted."</p>
<p>"No, please listen," Joe says. His eyes search Nicky's face, so intently. "I think it's because I was trying to remind <em>myself</em> of it. Of why I shouldn't…"</p>
<p>When he trails off, Nicky steps in a little closer. Joe reaches out to pluck at the hem of Nicky's T-shirt. It's strangely intimate, for them. Nicky's heart is racing, and he's not sure why. "Shouldn't what?"</p>
<p>"Want this," Joe sighs, hand coming to rest on Nicky's waist. "When I know you don't really. Nicky, you matter <em>so much</em> to me, I never want to lose that. To lose you. God, when Nile said you were leaving us, I swear my heart actually stopped for a minute before you could explain. Nicky…"</p>
<p>Nicky's mouth is very dry. He tilts his head up, ever so slightly, and covers Joe's hand on his waist with his own. "Joe, what the hell ever made you think I don't want you?"</p>
<p>Joe's eyes widen. "What—"</p>
<p>The music changes, and Nile lets out a whoop somewhere behind them. They jerk apart, startled. A moment later she pushes between them, grinning wickedly. "Come on, lovebirds, it's time to hit the dance floor."</p>
<p>Nicky swats her away. "Nile…"</p>
<p>"It's obligatory," she informs him sternly. "I don't make the gay rules. Andy, get your ass over here, you do not get to duck out of this one either!"</p>
<p>As she all but drags Andy down the stairs, Nicky huffs out a laugh. He smiles up into Joe's bright eyes and reaches out to reclaim his hand. "Well, if it's obligatory."</p>
<p>Joe laces their fingers together, still staring at him as though...oh, as though Nicky is one of his works of art. "Nicky…"</p>
<p>"Dance with me, Joe," Nicky says softly. "After that, we can find someplace to talk."</p>
<p>So they follow Nile and Andy down to the dance floor.</p>
<p>At first it's one of the jumping-around-like-idiots songs, so they indulge Nile and join the rest of their friends in mutually assured blackmail material, and the next song up on the playlist isn't much of an improvement. But eventually the music shifts to something a little less manic, enough that Nicky can catch at the belt loops of Joe's jeans to reel him in closer.</p>
<p>Joe's a good dancer; he has an excellent feel for rhythm, and knows how to move to it. Nicky is nothing special, another white guy trying his best not to make a complete ass of himself, but it's so easy to just press in close and let Joe guide him, those lovely hands coming to rest at Nicky's hips. Nicky dares to trace the smooth planes of Joe's back and shoulder blades, his T-shirt so soft beneath Nicky's palms, until he gives in and just wraps his arms around Joe's neck, swaying closer still. Joe exhales sharply, resting his forehead against Nicky's, his arms tightening around Nicky's waist.</p>
<p>"This is what I was afraid of," Joe mutters, and Nicky can feel Joe's breath against his own lips.</p>
<p>"What's that?" Nicky prompts him gently.</p>
<p>Joe runs a hand up and down Nicky's back, still moving them to the beat of the bass. Nicky has no idea what song is playing and couldn't care less. "That once I held you in my arms, I'd never be able to let you go."</p>
<p>Nicky has no choice but to kiss him, then, finally, <em>finally</em>. And Joe is right about one thing: once he starts, he can't possibly bring himself to stop. He holds Joe's face in his hands and kisses him, and kisses him, as if his life depends on it. Joe just opens his mouth to Nicky's without hesitation, swallowing all the needy, embarrassing noises Nicky scarcely even realizes he's making, kissing him right back.</p>
<p>He hasn't had a single sip of alcohol all evening, and this is the drunkest he's ever felt in his life. His head is spinning, his blood races through his veins, he can hardly even gasp out a breath between kisses but God, it's like being drugged, he <em>has</em> to keep kissing Joe. It's absolutely unthinkable that he could ever pull away. They're technically still dancing, but only in the loosest possible sense of the word, grinding up against each other in a rhythm that has only the vaguest relation to whatever music is still playing. Nicky is blindingly hard and he doesn't even care, he just needs to kiss Joe some more.</p>
<p>After an eternity, Joe manages to drag himself away, just far enough to breathe. "We should get out of here," he says, voice low and rough, before dipping his head to chase Nicky's mouth again.</p>
<p>Nicky sucks on his tongue, and Joe shudders against him. "Right," he says thickly, pressing swift kisses to the corner of Joe's mouth, his neck, his earlobe. "Andy will kill us if we have sex in her pub."</p>
<p>"We're pretty close to having sex in the middle of her dance floor," Joe points out hoarsely. "Nick—<em>fuck</em>—your mouth, I need—"</p>
<p>"Come home with me," Nicky whispers, right in his ear, and Joe nods frantically.</p>
<p>Somehow they manage to push their way out of the pub without further incident, hands tightly clasped, though they have to stop again once they get outside to make out against the wall of the building for a minute. They tug each other down the street, snickering like truant schoolboys, and fumble gracelessly for their Oyster cards to get into the Tube, unwilling to let go long enough to make it through the turnstile. It's still shockingly early for a Saturday night, and the platform is crowded enough to cool them down for a minute. Nicky thinks he must be going mad; he's never wanted anyone like this, so much that he can't string two thoughts together without being distracted by the pinkness of Joe's lips, the strength in his hands, the curve of his ass. He wants to taste every inch of Joe's skin. He wants to lose himself in Joe's eyes.</p>
<p>The train car is equally packed, which means they have every excuse to crowd each other, sway closer with every curve of the tunnel, stumble deliberately against each other every time the train stops and starts again. Joe has one hand firmly tucked into the back pocket of Nicky's jeans. Nicky wants to lick his throat.</p>
<p>They're so stupidly absorbed in each other that they actually miss Nicky's stop and don't realize it until the train starts pulling out of the station. Joe giggles helplessly, pressing his face into Nicky's neck. "I guess we're going to your place instead," Nicky tells him, petting his hair.</p>
<p>Joe leads the way when they finally disembark, their hands still clasped. They're more circumspect now, but every time Joe glances over at him in wonder, like he can't quite believe this is happening, Nicky's heart gives a ridiculous flutter in his chest. Later, he will remember next to nothing about the walk to Joe's flat, only the feel of Joe's hand in his, the heat in those brown eyes.</p>
<p>Once inside, they don't even make it past the front hall. Joe presses Nicky back against the wall and kisses him desperately. Nicky can't imagine how he went a single goddamn minute without this; now that he knows what Joe's mouth tastes like, he never wants to be without it again.</p>
<p>"I wanted," Joe pants, briefly pulling away from Nicky's lips enough to suck kisses down his neck and collarbone, "to take my time with you—"</p>
<p>"Next time," Nicky promises, pulling him closer still, cupping his ass in both hands. "Joe, please, need you, <em>please</em>—"</p>
<p>He wraps his arms around Joe, holding on for dear life, and Joe rolls his hips to meet Nicky's. It's like grasping a live wire, electricity coursing through and between their bodies, sparking everywhere they touch. They don't even get their clothes off, apart from some uncoordinated fumbling with the flies of their jeans. Nicky shoves his thigh between Joe's and they rub up against each other, kissing the whole time and babbling incoherent affirmations between kisses. He has no idea who comes first, just gradually returns to himself, still shaking a little with the aftershocks, Joe draped warm and heavy against him.</p>
<p>"Shower?" Joe murmurs, and nips at his earlobe.</p>
<p>Nicky shudders again weakly. "Yes, please."</p>
<p>They strip down in the bathroom while Joe runs the water to heat it up, then clamber in together before it's fully hot. "I haven't come in my pants like that since I don't even know when," Nicky says, laughing off the embarrassment. </p>
<p>Joe grins and pinches his ass. "Fun, though, yeah?" he asks, passing Nicky the soap.</p>
<p>Nicky glimpses just the barest hint of uncertainty in his eyes, and does his best to kiss it away, water running down their faces. "Very," he whispers, and kisses Joe again.</p>
<p>By the time they've sufficiently cleaned up and dried off, taking every possible excuse to touch and kiss in the process, Nicky's definitely interested in a potential round two. This time, as promised, Joe does take his time, spreading Nicky across the bed and kissing him slow and sure. They just make out for what feels like hours, learning every inch of each other, far more focused on the journey than the destination. When Nicky finally wraps his hand around Joe's cock, it's practically an afterthought; some time later, his own orgasm takes him almost by surprise, and he feels like he's floating away on it. Like only Joe's body on top of him is keeping him tethered to the bed, grounding him.</p>
<p>"We never did talk about it, did we?" Nicky murmurs afterward, tucked into the circle of Joe's arms.</p>
<p>Joe presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. "We will," he promises. His chest is so warm against Nicky's back. "Tomorrow."</p>
<p>"Tomorrow," Nicky agrees, and sleeps.</p>
<hr/>
<p>Sunlight slants directly across Nicky’s face when he awakens, and he instinctively reaches for a pillow to shield himself only to discover he's still very much wrapped up in Joe. It feels overheated and amazing. Nicky wants to live in this moment forever.</p>
<p>Except the sun in his eyes is really annoying, and his bladder is making its needs known.</p>
<p>Joe tightens his grip when Nicky starts to move, mumbling something. Nicky's heart does a funny little flip in his chest. He gently extricates himself from Joe's arms, rolling over to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'll be right back, I promise."</p>
<p>Once he's taken care of the most pressing matter, he finds a pack of spare toothbrushes in the cabinet under the sink, and figures that's also a good idea. Then he slips back out into the hallway to reverse engineer their progression last night. He's never been inside Joe's flat before, and hadn't exactly been paying attention to the layout earlier, but it's nice. Very small, but welcome to London; at least Joe's qualifies as a one bedroom, which is good because the living room clearly doubles as his studio, given all the art supplies and dropcloths scattered around. Nicky can't see any works in progress at the moment, but he doesn't want to snoop, so he just retrieves his mobile from his discarded jeans in the hallway and heads back to the bedroom.</p>
<p>Joe is stirring by then, and props his head up on one arm to blink sleepily up at Nicky. A smile breaks across his face. "You're gorgeous in sunlight."</p>
<p>Nicky can feel a flush spread from his face downward, and Joe's grin widens, but he refuses to be embarrassed by his nudity. Joe has become intimately acquainted with just about every inch of him by now. "Good morning to you, too."</p>
<p>"It certainly is." Joe extends a hand. "Come back to bed."</p>
<p>Nicky doesn't need any convincing. He drops his phone on the bedside table and sinks back down onto the mattress, letting Joe draw him into a kiss. Nicky's face is a little sore from beard burn, after all the making out they did last night, but he couldn't care less. </p>
<p>After a few slow, sweet minutes, Joe pulls away slightly, trailing his fingertips down along Nicky's hip. "Much as I'd like to continue as we are, we should probably have that talk now."</p>
<p>Nicky hums his agreement as he presses another kiss to Joe's neck, just below the line of his beard, and enjoys the way Joe's whole body shivers against his.</p>
<p>"That is not terribly conducive to conversation," Joe remarks, a little breathlessly, tilting his head so that Nicky can have better access. They lose another few minutes that way. What the hell, Nicky figures; it's Sunday, they have all day.</p>
<p>But Joe is right, they really should talk about what they're doing here. It's just that if this is all Nicky is going to have of him, he desperately wants to postpone the conversation. He doesn't really <em>think</em> that's what's happening, but there's a tiny, insecure voice in his head pointing out that this is definitely too good to be true. Nicky doesn't get to have nice things and keep them, not like this. </p>
<p>Not like Joe.</p>
<p>Eventually, Joe sighs and drags himself out of Nicky's grasp, and Nicky permits it. "Impossible man."</p>
<p>"Sorry," Nicky says, with as much contrition as he can manage. It's not very much. But he sits up primly and tugs the coverlet up over his lap, leaning back against the headboard. He hopes his tone will not betray how sick he is with nerves right now. "Okay. Talking. Would you like to begin, or shall I?"</p>
<p>Joe doesn't respond immediately, his gaze fixated on Nicky's bare chest. Then he blinks and flushes, his eyes snapping back up to meet Nicky's. It's adorable. Nicky is so hopelessly gone for this man. "Sorry," Joe says, a little hoarsely. "I don't know why I thought I could carry on a coherent conversation when you're naked in my bed."</p>
<p>Nicky is completely helpless to prevent the smile from stretching across his own face. "I could get dressed, if that will help."</p>
<p>"Don't you dare." Joe reaches for him, then catches himself and drops his hand, grimacing. "Okay," he says, squeezing his eyes shut and breathing deeply. "Just—give me a moment."</p>
<p><em>I would give you anything you asked for, and more.</em> Nicky has to bite his own lip to keep the words from escaping. That would be far too much.</p>
<p>When Joe looks back at him, his expression is serious, intent. "All right. What is this between us, Nicky?"</p>
<p>Nicky folds his hands in his lap, so Joe can't see them shaking. "What would you like it to be?"</p>
<p>"That's cheating," Joe says, but the corner of his mouth twitches, and his eyes soften a little at the edges. "Okay, answer me this, then, because I've been wondering a long time: why did you agree to the Pride pact in the first place?"</p>
<p>Oddly enough, that's an easy one. "Because I thought it was what you wanted." When Joe's brows draw together, he goes on: "You made it very clear that you were only interested in friendship, so of course I agreed. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable." Thinking back, though, had it even been Joe who proposed the pact in the first place? Actually, it hadn't started off as a <em>pact</em> at all, had it? Joe hinted strongly that he wasn't interested in Nicky's advances, Nicky promised not to sleep with him, they shook hands on it. "So why did <em>you</em> agree to it, then?"</p>
<p>"Because <em>I</em> thought it was what <em>you</em> wanted!" Joe shakes his head, chuckling ruefully. "You were so obviously uncomfortable with the way people kept pushing us together—"</p>
<p>"Well, of course I was embarrassed, I didn't want you to think I was throwing myself at you! No matter how much I did want you," Nicky admits, because he can, now. Joe is well aware of exactly how much Nicky wants him.</p>
<p>But this is apparently new information, judging by the expression on Joe's face. "You did? Even then?"</p>
<p>Nicky stares at him blankly. "Joe, you were the most beautiful man I'd ever seen. Of <em>course</em> I did. Then I made the terrible mistake of getting to know you, and discovered that you were also kind, and clever, and talented. And the best friend I could have ever asked for." He swallows hard. "That means so much more to me than I can say. So I swear I wasn't being...glib, when I asked what you wanted this to be. I mean it, Joe. Whatever you want. Whatever you ask, my answer is yes."</p>
<p>Now it's Joe's turn to stare, mouth open, eyes huge and dark. When he doesn't respond, Nicky gives him a wry smile. "I'm sorry, that was probably too much."</p>
<p>"No, no," Joe says hastily, blinking. His gaze is full of wonder, and Nicky starts to hope, <em>maybe</em>... "Nicky, you are so… How can you just <em>say</em> such things?"</p>
<p>"Because they're true," Nicky says simply. "Because I mean them."</p>
<p>"Even though you thought I—" Joe stops and shakes his head. "No. Wait. Stay right here, please, I just need one minute."</p>
<p>"All right," Nicky agrees, bemused, as Joe flounders his way out of bed and starts rummaging around on top of his dresser. "What are you—"</p>
<p>Joe waves a hand, a little frantically. "Please. I will be right back, I promise." With that, he's out the bedroom door, and Nicky can hear him rustling about the living room instead. </p>
<p>Feeling ever so slightly uncertain, but willing to play along, Nicky fidgets with the coverlet for a bit, then remembers he'd grabbed his phone and goes to check it. He has quite a few new texts, and flicks through them quickly, just in case there's anything urgent, improbable though that is.</p>
<p>They're all from their friends, which he should have guessed—he and Joe hadn't exactly been discreet, making out in the middle of the dance floor like that. Nile demands details, Quỳnh is all smug congratulations, Booker wants to know what the hell he missed last night. Andy simply wants to make sure they did not in fact have sex in her pub. His favorite is actually from Lykon: just a solid wall of thumbs-up emojis. That makes him laugh.</p>
<p>He immediately sets his phone aside when Joe returns, looking a little wild-eyed. Nicky hadn't properly appreciated before just how impressive Joe's bedhead is, but between that and the manic energy, he's rocking the slightly-mad artistic genius vibes. </p>
<p>And still very naked, of course.</p>
<p>"Here," Joe says, kneeling on the bed in front of him. He thrusts a thick sketchbook into Nicky's willing hands. "It's easier to just show you."</p>
<p>Nicky hesitates. It feels like intruding, somehow, to page through Joe's sketches. He sets it carefully on top of the coverlet over his lap. "What am I looking for?"</p>
<p>"You'll see." Joe reaches out to open it, his hand brushing Nicky's as he flips through the pages. Nicky badly wants to tangle their fingers together, but he contents himself with rubbing a gentle circle across Joe's knuckles, just for a moment. Joe sucks in a breath, but makes no move to press closer, giving Nicky space to look down at the book.</p>
<p>The first thing he sees is an image he recognizes—the boat basin in Little Venice, the sketch he'd seen when they took that walk along the canal on Christmas. The opposite page is from Regent's Park. And tucked into a corner is Nicky's own profile, just a glimpse of it, as though peeking out at him.</p>
<p>"You can keep looking," Joe says quietly.</p>
<p>Nicky turns the page. It's the canal, still: Nicky sitting on the bench, shoulders hunched forward, head bowed, staring out at the water. How had Joe captured him so quickly, so effectively, without Nicky even noticing? He can chart the rest of their afternoon together through the next few pages: the houseboats along the canal, Nicky's smile, a grove of barren trees, an outline of Nicky's hands plucking at his own pockets, a faded old pub sign, Nicky's eyes. The further he looks, the more of himself he sees, scribbled in corners and tucked into margins, hovering around the edges of landscapes and other portrait studies. He's everywhere. He's a part of everything Joe draws. Nothing unsettling, or creepy—nothing that would make Nicky uncomfortable even if he wasn't already head over heels for Joe—just so very <em>present</em>.</p>
<p>He pauses, then flips backwards, going back earlier than Christmas. He's there, too. There are hasty renderings and full portraits of all of their friends: Andy leaning across the bar with a mulish expression, Quỳnh laughing, Nile aiming darts with a wicked grin, Booker with his head propped up in his hands. Lykon's smile, Celeste's eyes outlined in dark makeup, Dizzy's perfectly arched eyebrows. </p>
<p>And Nicky, of course. Nicky leaning back against the balcony, eyes bright; Nicky covering his face with his hands, a helpless grin just visible around the edges; Nicky staring intently at something off to one side, captured in full profile.</p>
<p>It goes all the way back to their beginning.</p>
<p>"Do you see?" Joe asks him softly, urgently.</p>
<p>Nicky closes the book slowly. His voice rasps in his throat. "You make me much more handsome than I am in person."</p>
<p>"Not possible." Joe takes Nicky's hands in his, eyes searching. "Nicky…"</p>
<p>"I love the way you see me," Nicky whispers, and kisses him, so very gently.</p>
<p>Joe practically falls into it, reclaiming his mouth again and again, the sketchbook trapped awkwardly between them until Nicky manages to push it aside. He wraps his arms around Joe, holding him steady, until Joe drops his head to Nicky's collarbone and laughs. "I did try to warn you, once," he says thickly, slipping his own arms around Nicky's middle.</p>
<p>Nicky kisses the top of his head. "About what?"</p>
<p>"About <em>me</em>." Joe lifts his head, almost shyly, rubbing his nose along Nicky's. "That I have a tendency to...leap. That I fall too easily."</p>
<p>Nicky's heart feels too big for his chest. His body cannot possibly contain all this feeling. "It's okay," he promises, holding Joe tighter still. "I've got you."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm also on <a href="http://kaydeefalls.tumblr.com">tumblr</a>, if that's your thing.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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